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thehistoriangirl · 1 year

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There Are Some Paths Where You Can’t Follow Me

Almost done with the Valentine’s Special (!!!!) Thanks for your patience :3

Mel x fem!Reader--------2.6K------SFW

Synopsis: Mel lost much more than her family support when her mother banished her to the city of Piltover. Just as nightmares haunt her every other night, your face is still clear on her memories despite the passing years.When Hextech puts Piltover on the map, just as the name of the Medarda who sponsors it, it was only a matter of time to find you walking into a gala hosted by your long-lost friend.

Her main hall was filled with people, and yet, her eyes were naturally drawn to yours.

It should be no surprise for her to see you there—in fact, she had thought you'd taken your time to appear. And yet the hold of her wine's cup faltered as you looked away, eyes sweeping the surrounding of the room, with its high dome and bronze arches colored red and orange not only for the quickly dipping sun but also for the hearths burning at the center of the space.

You seemed unfazed, and a part of her felt a crushing pressure settle on her chest. Perhaps you had forgotten her—you should have. What was the point of keep longing for a past that could never be repeated? Or amended.

More than ten years ago, she had gotten aboard a boat off the coast of Noxus without looking back, because if she had done that, tears would have stained her cheeks while the guards kept their cold stares at her, thinking that her mother did right into sending her away. Because she was weak.

With the necessary years separated that fatal day, she demonstrated they were wrong. Mel was the younger merchant to sit at the Council, and her commerce deals were blooming more successfully than ever since Hextech’s breakthrough.

In parties like this one, her main hall will get filled with foreigners and the richer Piltovan society, all trying to tail her every step in wishes to streak a deal with her—some even said her touch was magical because there where she laid her interest it will fruit gold.

As she walked toward the left end of the hall, toward the balcony, she allowed her mind to think about the past, about how she had to train alone her merchant skills with the little information the far side of her family taught her in spare reunions around the Medarda’s family manor each summer. As she was unfitting for war, the least she could do was keep multiplying the family wealth in a last attempt to make herself useful.

As Mel saw the dipping sun hiding down the port, under the waves, she felt her earrings moving while she shook her head.

Now while looking down at the city—her city, too—her thoughts drifted at the contents inside her chest, locked in her heart. She wasn’t happy at Noxus, not really if she compared her Piltovan lifestyle against her Noxii one; between war boats and walking inside newly conquered forts and castles, with dust still settling down, blood not fully dried. It still haunted her.

No amount of white marble in tall buildings or chatting rooms filled with glistening wine glasses or quiet, domed auditoriums reverberating with a symphony could ever erase them.

Not they could erase you, either. For good or bad, she could never pick.

It was intriguing, she considered as she swirled the thin steam of metal with slow wrists motions, seeing you stepping inside without any shadow following you. For what Kino told her in a letter—after she hinted she wanted to know about you some other letters ago—that you got engaged to a rising general that was working side by side in the conquest of the Freljlord.

Why his family hadn't sent any guards? Even if you decided to dismiss them, they should have entered minutes after you, keeping you safe inside the shadows.

She didn't dare to ask Kino about how your wedding went. Mel could imagine with vivid realism, even if a part of her ached at the sight of your cold eyes laid in this general while making hollow votes of love when everything you were doing was just forging a powerful alliance.

Perhaps, if she'd had been other Mel, one that could endure the sight of death and war without flinching, without the captives and their ghosts following her steps, echoing in the empty, broken halls about her cooperation in this brutality; perhaps, your family would have sought an alliance of such nature with her, a second chance of creating bonds with the Medardas now that Kino had dismissed it the first time.

After all, you had endured the life of a general’s daughter and sister roles so well, that being a general’s wife wouldn’t differ too much. The dread was always there, and she knew you didn’t care about glory and reputation, so losing a battle won’t be important.

Night came with cold winds under its navy blue fingers, painting the sky starred with freckles similar to those adorning Mel’s face. Chandeliers flicked with golden light poured inside the hall, with chatter so energetic as hours before, if not more so now that the wine started to kick in.

Her glass was empty long before she thought about heading inside to find a servant to refill it. The possibility of encountering was very high, and she wasn’t convinced about what she would do in that case. Apologize? Ignore you? Feign oblivion?

Any of them sat right. She didn't want to see other people listening from their proximity, stealing curious glances as Councilor Medarda apologized vaguely to this Noxii woman that always stared at you as if she were bored as if she didn't care.

Another good mask you crafted even before she could make hers.

The echoed footsteps approaching almost made her flinch, pretending to shift her position as the other person settled next to her, far enough to be considered respectful, but close for her to take in the citric essence of your lotion.

Noxii oranges cultivated in your family’s manor garden. Little and round, but full of sweet juice that made the suffocating summer months more pleasant—or maybe it was because you were there, too.

Mel kept the silence, a charged cord of electricity that was ready to snap as you gazed at the boulevards extending over the city, the tall buildings of the Council and the Academy painted in blue tones.

She looked at you from the corner of her eye, wanting to ask if you liked the view.

I thought I’d never see you again.

Instead, she settled with: “Congratulation on your marriage,” she thanked her voice was steady and nonchalant. “I apologize for not sending a gift.”

You chuckled, but it sounded more like a sigh. “Better that way. It would have been a loss of time.” Your shoulders shrugged, and part of the thin dark veil over your shoulders slipped down, revealing the uneven sleeves of your dark red dress.

She doubted it. "How it was?" Mel found herself asking, even if the underlying question was if you had felt happy if you were happy.

“A bad omen, some may say.” You laughed, eyeing a zeppelin passing by. “I’m a widow now.”

Mel’s eyes widened. “Pardon?” Why didn’t her brother tell her about it?

“Two weeks after the wedding. He went into a battle in the Freljlord and never came back.” The lightness of your voice concerned her, surprising her solidified thought of you being content with your life back in Noxus. "A rising house, crushed under a stroke of bad luck. But so is life, isn't it?"

She blinked, a furrow on her brow. “Crushed?”

It was the second time of the evening for you to connect your gaze, this time over the flicking shadows of the chandelier in the hall, the torches lit in the balcony. Your expression was neutral as you took her features in, analyzing if they had changed—and Mel asked herself that, too.

“His mother spread rumors about how I created witchcraft to kill him so quickly," the words escaped your mouth easily, your eyes cast away from hers now. She tightened her clasp in her cup. "A foolish move, but I can understand a mother's grief."

You, not my family.

“What happened after?” The rumors subsided so quickly they wouldn’t reach Mel, who knows how many people knew, but once again—it was a foolish move to target a member of the Callestars.

"She died," you answered, and Mel wasn't surprised that you didn't comment on her how she did. "My husband's manor will become part of my soon-to-be sister-in-law's dowry."

“I didn’t know Ewan Callestar was getting married.”

You smiled softly. “Me either, until two days ago.”

Silence remained heavy between you two, a string tangled in Mel’s heart and mind, becoming fuzzy and difficult to find the words—any words.

“I’m sorry,” she said, putting the cup on the thick marble rail of the balcony, half-turning her body toward you. You tilted her head, looking at her beneath your eyelids. Mel didn’t specify for what she was apologizing, she wanted to interpret it yourself, to take whatever you wanted from her, from her words, so it could make it easier.

You didn’t bait.

“Don’t.” The detached, snapping tone of your voice startled her. “There’s worthless now.”

It’s worthless now, and yet, why was Mel's chest compressed in such a hurtful way?

You gestured to the hall, people looking at Mel to express they were heading home as she sent her farewell with a tilt of her head. “I should go, too.”

There was only fair to be you to leave her alone this time—this once being forever. But she couldn't bring herself to agree.

“What brought you here today?” She tried to remain the merchant Mel, the Councilor, with her careful threaded words, her expression neutral.

But you weren’t having any of her façades. You never did.

“I wanted to see your house,” you stated, and she felt her brows knitting with curiosity. “It’s not painted gold as I imagined it would be.”

You remembered. You had recollected your silly conversation of youth when you both were vising Ionia and Shurima, every city conquered, every castle seized as Mel would walk among the ruins to imagine a rebuilding future, with all the terrors cast away, replaced by splendor and stability.

Her lips extended in a smile so soft it was a ghostly memory of that same expression when she could lay in freshly cut grass outside the Callestar manor, you next to her as you peeled an orange for her when you would joke about her past lessons with the always grumpy and stiffened teacher.

“Decorating using too much gold is seen as tasteless here, darling." The words flew out her mouth without questioning, still transfixed in the memory, of the past that somehow had extended through this new land, through the space your presence used to occupy, now that you came to reclaim it.

You were still her darling, was she still your dearest?

Mel tried to search for your eyes, and she found them twinkling.

“And yet this city uses more gold foil in their external architecture, I had to wonder if it was like this when you arrived—or if it’s a new trend influenced by someone.”

As you spoke, the words got stabbed into her chest, leaving a hollow, dripping hole. When she arrived Piltover—when she left you.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, thinking that not even a myriad of thousand apologies would fix the past.

Instead of denying it, you leaned against the cold rail, eyes gazing over the far coast, down the port. “Did you ever look back?” you muttered, slowly enough for your low tone not to be carried away by the nightly wind. “Did you ever hear me?”

She did. Her name echoed in the open bay, the guards facing her, cold stares, and a glistening curiosity that sent daggers of stares through her shoulder blades as she walked down into her cabin, where her screams couldn't be heard.

Another ghost that followed her, and another guilt piled up on her shoulders.

“I couldn’t let you abandon everything to follow the steps of a useless banished daughter.”

Your gaze darted to her, digging inside of her soul as you scanned her supposedly tranquil expression as if you could identify the slightly fluttering rhythm of her heartbeat.

“I’m a useless banished daughter too, Mel.”

Her feet slipped from her well-rehearsed posture. “What?”

"Didn't I just tell you? My family wiped down a house and seized all its riches." You tried to shrug, but your shoulders were too rigid, your nerves like an over-extended elastic. "They got what they wanted, I'm not useful to them anymore."

She didn't know what to say, and you probably didn't want her to try to console you. That had never been you.

So she just waited.

"I hope you hadn't chosen for me that day, Mel.” You walked a step closer, so close the long skirt of your dress brushed hers. “My family had traced my every path, I had hoped you let me choose." You shook your head, strands of hair starting to fall from your hairstyle. "I think it's better if I go now."

You stepped back, ready to walk away. But she wasn't ready. Mel was never ready, not even when that same scene of you screaming for her at the port repeated on a loop inside her head for years.

"Why don't you stay?" she commented, trying to sound casual, but the slight creak in her voice betrayed her poise.

Your heels stopped mid-step, breaking the steady rhythm as you were almost halfway inside the hall. Your back turned to her, but the contrast between the lights and the dark outside couldn't let her see your expression.

"Do you want me to stay?" It was a careful question, voice stopping at each word as if weighing the real meaning of the sounds rolling off your tongue.

Did she? Mel blinked, her heart feeling frenetic. “I do.”

“Why?” you asked. You had to always ask why, especially now. Because you never got to ask so before.

And it was more than a simple word, it was so many questions tucked at the corner of a room you both tried to ignore for so long, a locked closet filled with memories.

“Because I miss you,” Mel said out loud—finally out loud—, walking closer so she could extend her hand down to yours. "I've missed you all these years, but I couldn't allow myself to be selfish and look for you. I was scared to bring you down dishonored like me." She stopped shaky breaths out, feeling tiny and naked as if a breeze of air would take her away as she stood there, waiting for your judgment. "I was scared you'd say no—because I still love you.”

You turned in a red daze, and she felt your hand slowly taking in hers, fingers interlaced. "I would never say no to you, my dearest," you said, pressing her palm slightly.

Her eyes widened when she heard you, thinking that perhaps time wouldn’t have passed after all, that everything was in its place as she leaned in to kiss you, the first one in so long.

It felt like coming back home, in the sweet brush motion of your lips, hands still in one another.

"I missed you too, Mel," you whispered, like a secret that had been maintained inside of your chest, relieved at finally could it be rest inside her heart, where it belonged. "But I'm here now, and I won't let go."

The smile that spread her lips made her go back to those bright days that she knew, deep inside, would come back as long as you were next to her.

“Me either.” Not again. Not ever. And so she kissed you again, just to lie her promise inside your heart, unbreakable.

#arcane mel x reader #mel x reader #mel arcane x reader #mel x you #mel medarda x reader #mel medarda #mel arcane #arcane x f!reader #arcane x female reader #arcane fanfiction #arcane fanfic #arcane fic #st valentine special #my thingies :)

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rosemaze-reveries · 1 year

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yumekuro posting!? 🫣 mel is so tart & SASSY and unfortunately i was entranced

“melt me with a kiss” 🍮

pairing. mel x nameless mc pronouns. she/her genre. fluff fluff fluff synopsis. mel keeps mc company as she preps for a date

“If you ask me, you’re just wasting your time.”

From his spot lounging atop the Guild Keeper’s bed, Mel watched her with a bored look in his eyes, kicking his legs in the air. “All this effort for one garbage meister, and you don’t even know how to kiss. Don’t you think that makes you garbage too? I mean, this date was already doomed from the start, but at least you could say you had a chance if you practised first.”

His slew of nasty criticism was nothing unusual. She knew him well enough not to let his commentary get under her skin. While he continued rattling off complaints about this and that, she carefully eyed her reflection in the mirror.

“I feel like my eyebrows are a little uneven…”

“You just noticed?”

“But that’s fine, I can fix it!”

“Evening out your eyebrows still won’t fix your face.”

Maybe she was just too preoccupied on perfecting her makeup, but Mel felt like nothing but background noise. He had even turned his attention away to his nails, mindlessly spitting out half-insults without sparing her a glance.

It was only when he heard her ask, “Which one?” that he looked up again. She was holding two bottles of pink lip stain, awaiting his input.

“You’ll look tacky either way,” he huffed. “But the lighter one matches your outfit better, I guess.”

She peered down at the shade he suggested, tapped her finger against her bottom lip in thought, then nodded to herself. He watched her apply it with delicate strokes, before she went back to fussing in the mirror. Any strand of hair out of place, any spot of skin she felt hadn’t been blended enough. She left nothing untouched. She might have been overdoing it, even.

Mel rested his cheek in his palm, not understanding the point in all of this.

“Do you think that no-name meister is putting in half as much effort as you? All this thoroughness feels like nonsense to me.”

...…? Unless her mind was playing tricks on her, that was the first comment Mel had made that didn’t insult her in some way. She looked at him curiously through the mirror’s reflection.

“You almost sounded jealous for a second there.”

Mel faltered for a moment, lips falling into a flat line. But he quickly rebounded and cracked into a wicked smile.

“What’s there to be jealous of?” He stuck his nose in the air. “I get your company whenever I want. Or is it your nonexistent kissing skills I’m missing out on?”

Now it was her turn to pause. His words didn’t sting in the way he probably meant them to, but they stuck with her nonetheless. He’d brought up her lack of experience twice now—and he was right. She’d been feeling very insecure about it, in fact.

Pursing her lips, she picked up her lip-blotting tissue again. Then, hesitantly, she swiveled around to face him.

“Actually, Mel, I wanted to ask a favor…”

“Heh~? Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll think ab—”

He abruptly cut himself off. One look at the lipstick-stained tissue in her grasp made it clear what she was insinuating. As soon as that dawned on him, Mel’s lashes swept upwards, caught in a daze. But he forced out another taunt to deflect back onto her.

“T-This is some top-tier nonsense, even from you!!”

“I-I’m being serious!” She jumped to her feet, trying her hardest to keep her composure. “I won’t force you, it’s just... I’ll die if I embarrass myself tonight. Please?”

Mel went quiet.

“We can use the tissue as a barrier,” she insisted.

“...I don’t care about that... um...”

He refused to meet her in the eye. A soft blush colored his freckled cheeks. This was not the first time she’d seen Mel become so shy, but it definitely wasn’t a side of him she was used to. When he finally flicked his eyes back at her, he crinkled his nose before letting out a quick tch.

“...This isn’t going to save your garbage date anyway, but I’ll let you practice... once. And you don’t need the stupid tissue paper.” Mel sat up on the edge of her bed, but made no other advancements. He simply waited for her to do as she pleased. It was her practice; she could do all the work.

And so, she tried to mimic what she’d read in books: she tucked a loose curl of hair behind her ear, squeezed her eyes shut, and blindly pecked his face.

“...!” Mel immediately lurched backwards, swiping the back of his hand against his mouth. “What was that? You’ve really got nothing but sludge in that brain of yours, huh? Be gentler!”

“S-Sorry,” she rubbed her own mouth, trying to soothe the pain from knocking into him.

Her second attempt succeeded in being gentler, but Mel thought it was still too stiff.

“How are you this bad? You should be grateful I kept pestering you about this. That good-for-nothing meister would’ve dumped you in seconds.”

At that, she pulled away, clearly vexed by his words.

“If you’re such an expert then why don’t you show me?”

Mel was no longer shy like before -- this had evolved into an earnest training session, and he was determined to have it bear fruit. Without missing a beat, he cupped her cheeks in either hand. He then levitated above her, just for a bit of leverage, and pressed into her.

The difference in technique had never felt clearer. His lips were gentle, and warm, and molded against hers in a perfect blend of magic and passion.

But Mel broke apart just as quickly as he began. A smug smile crawled onto his face, while the Guild Keeper was left in a stunned haze. He’d taken her to enchanted places with just a single touch.

“Like that,” he said simply. “Let me know if that meister can do it better.”

#i liked the idea of mel - who fusses sm for perfection - not understanding why you're fussing this bad over a date hehe #yumekuro #ymkr imagines #ymkr x reader #ymkr x you #ymkr mel #mel x reader #mel x you #ymkr posting

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ok-mongoose · 2 years

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Mel’s Angel: Part 2

Mel Medarda x reader

Notes: sorry it took so long to post the 2nd chapter I kinda forgot about it. Unrelated, tomorrow is my birthday.

Previous chapter:

You woke up at 7:30 in the morning, to the dreadful sound that was your alarm. As you slowly lifted your heavy eyelids, dreading the day ahead of you, you remembered last night. Specifically your talk with Mel, you couldn’t contain your excitement, as you quickly removed your covers. You did your normal daily routine except today you had a little pep in your step.

You were making breakfast and humming a little tune, when you got a message from Mel. To your surprise it was signed ‘Mel’, you thought it would be from her assistant or something because it’s not like you're a high ranking official or anyone important. But it did make you kinda excited that you got a letter directly from her, but that wasn’t the most exciting part.

The letter had all the information for the tea date you and Mel had planned the night before. You were supposed to meet with Mel where she lives by where the council meetings take place.

She said she would meet you in the front and take you to ‘somewhere beautiful’ not that you know what that entails. Of course you were even more excited than before because; 1. You get to have tea with Mel Medarda, 2. You got a personal letter from her and 3. She invited you to her house. Needless to say, you couldn’t wait.

After a few hours of anxiously waiting It was finally 11:40, the time you needed to start walking to get to Mel’s house on time. You quickly left your apartment and started speed walking down the street.

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As you were walking up to the front door of Mel’s house, a few minutes early, you saw the door opening and the gorgeous green eyed woman, you’ve wanted to see all day, stepped out.

“Hello I thought you’d come early” Wait what does she mean by that, do I look too eager? Am I too eager? No she probably meant no harm in it, you think, still having your doubts. But just as you were about to start overthinking again she snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Are you feeling unwell? Would you like to reschedule?” she said with a look of confusion in her eyes. Probably as to why you were staring blankly at her.

“Yeah I feel just fine, I just spaced out a little, sorry.” You started freaking out inside wondering if she was only asking that because she wanted to reschedule and was just hinting that she doesn't want to go on a tea date with you. You decided to push those thoughts away so you could focus on Mel.

“Good, I wouldn’t want you getting sick when we are supposed to have our date” she said with the sweetest smile you’ve seen. You got excited finding out she thought it was a date too. You didn’t even realize that Mel was walking towards the house until she said,

“You coming dear?” It took you a few seconds to realize what she just called you. Dear!? You were about to faint right there. You’ve waited ages to be called dear by Mel Medarda.

You started following her inside her home, it was very fancy yet still homey. There were a few paintings on the walls. You wondered who the artist behind these paintings was because they were beautiful. Something about them made you feel some sort of way.

“It’s just past these doors” Mel said, watching as you looked at the paintings. You hoped she didn’t think that you were judging the paintings, but just in case you said,

“The paintings are stunning” you saw her lips curve into a small smile. You never saw her smile genuinely like she does with you. It made you feel happy inside to know that she enjoys being around you just as much as you enjoy being around her.

“Thank you, i’m glad you like them” you were debating whether to ask who the artist is but before you could finish that thought she started speaking.

“We’re here, I hope you like it,” she said with a nervous smile on her face. You looked around and what you saw amazed you. You entered a room full of flowers of all kinds, different sizes, shapes, and colors. It was the most beautiful garden you have ever seen, but then again considering where you grew up, you haven’t really seen that many gardens. Which made you wonder why she would be nervous about whether you would like it or not.

She led you to a little table in the middle of the garden, where there was some tea waiting for you guys.

“I thought this would be a nice place to have tea” you almost forgot about the tea, you were so preoccupied looking at and thinking about Mel.

“I agree, it's beautiful,” you said, looking around still in amazement. When you looked back at her, you could see a smile on her face while she was looking at you. You stayed there for a few seconds just gazing in each others eyes, no one saying a word until,

“We should probably drink the tea before it gets cold,” you said ruining the moment.

“You’re right, and i'm excited to get to know more about you,” you got little butterflies in your stomach thinking about the fact that she wants to get to know you, it made you feel special.

You guys sat down and you started talking about your life but you left out some important details. You didn’t want to ruin the friendship you just started with the woman of your dreams.

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A few hours passed, after talking about all sorts of things, from your favorite color, to your hopes and dreams for your life, your conversation started to focus on the paintings from earlier.

“I saw you looking at the paintings before” you could feel your cheeks heat up. You wondered why she was bringing this up now, but this was the perfect chance to ask who the artist is.

“Oh yes, they are very beautiful, who's the artist?” she could hear the curious tone in your voice, like you were actually interested in the art and the artist.

“I am” your mouth dropped slightly, surprised at this hidden talent. You never would have pegged Mel to be an artist as she's usually really busy with work, but the more you think about it the more it makes sense. Art to you too is also really relaxing, you paint whenever you have free time. It's like an escape from the real world and you can make it any world you want to.

“Wow they are amazing” you hoped that came off as sincerely as you meant it to, but you’ve always had trouble expressing your emotions, besides anger, you’ve expressed that a lot in your life.

“Thank you, would you like to see something?” She said with a bright smile and a little twinkle of excitement in her eyes.

“Yes of course” again you started worrying about being too eager. You didn't want to scare her.

“Ok then follow me, I think you’re going to enjoy it” you started to get curious, wondering what this surprise is. You went through the possibilities of what it could be but it was not anything that you could have ever imagined.

You found yourself in a hall with paintings lining the wall. They had all sorts of colors and shapes, it was gorgeous. They all had the same style and brush patterns so they were made by the same person. This person must have been a really creative person to make such amazing and imaginative work.

“Do you like it?” Mel said, you could have sworn there was a hint of uncertainty like she needed you to like it. But nevertheless you gave her your true and honest opinion.

“Yes I love it, it’s beautiful” you said while looking into her eyes.

You could have sworn you heard her sigh in relief when you stated that you liked the art works. You never thought she would care about the opinion of some nobody she just met, especially since she’s so confident, why would she want the approval of someone. Then again you never know what’s going on in someone else's head.

“It’s like a getaway from all the stress of the council” she said while looking at the painting before her.

“Is the council usually stressful or is it just around progress day?” You wondered if she was usually so stressed because you could see her body all tense.

“Well you know, there are always problems, Salo and Hoskel are always arguing and no one can ever agree on things. So it’s hard to get things done, but it’s not as hard as most jobs so I don’t really have room to complain.”

“So why are you showing me this?” You were wondering why she would confide in you with such a personal thing.

“I don’t know, I guess you just make me feel like I can talk to you about anything, I feel comfortable with you” that was one of the most heartfelt things you’ve heard in years. It made you so happy to hear that she felt like she could trust you.

“I feel the same way” you said quietly while looking into her eyes. Of course that was only the half truth. You couldn’t tell her everything about yourself. Otherwise she might hate you and that's the last thing you want to happen.

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After talking for hours about art and hobbies by the time you guys got back to the front door it was already dark. Mel offered to walk you back home just to see you get home safely but you refused, you didn’t want her to see where you live. Not that you were ashamed of your home, you worked hard to get it, just that you didn’t want anyone that lives near you to see Mel. You didn’t exactly live in the most safe neighborhood. You were snapped out of your thoughts when Mel started speaking.

“I really enjoyed today” she enjoyed it! A wide smile spread onto your face. You saw her with an equally big smile. You were glad she enjoyed the day just as much as you did.

“I did too, I hope we can do it again” you said the last part in a low voice, half hoping she hadn’t heard it. Your mind kept running, thinking about Mel and how maybe she doesn’t want to hangout with you again, but was interrupted by Mel.

“I’d love to. How does next Saturday sound?” you were taken aback. You didn’t actually think that she’d want to go on another date.

“Amazing“ you said with a big smile, still surprised that she wants to go on another date with you. That's what it is right? A date? Your questions were soon answered.

“Well good night and I look forward to our next date.” she said with one of the most charming and gorgeous smiles you’ve ever seen. With that you left and started heading to your home.

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You finally got back home and quickly got ready for bed. When you got in bed you let out a big sigh, like you do to wind down from an eventful day.

While lying there you couldn’t help but think about Mel, she’s the most beautiful and intelligent person you’ve ever met. Just being around her makes you feel good.

It was hard for you to wait 1 day to see her, you can’t imagine what it will be like to wait a whole week. You wish you could see her every day. Maybe she feels the same way, maybe she wants to spend every waking second with you just like you want with her.

That night you fell asleep happy thinking about Mel and your day with her. She’s the best thing that’s happened to you in years. You’ve fallen hard for this wonderful woman and there’s not a bone in your body that is not happy you get to spend time with her.

#arcane mel #arcane #mel x you #mel x reader #mel medarda #mel arcane

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devieuls · 10 months

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ˋ Love Lessons .

Neteyam Sully x Omatikaya Reader ( ONE SHOT )

Synopsis : After years of friendship, you realize that you have fallen in love with your best friend Neteyam, but you decide to keep your crush to yourself, afraid of ruining your relationship. The only thing that gave you any comfort was the fact that Neteyam was not interested in any woman, until one day he asks you for advice to make his crush understand that he is interested in her.

Warning : SMUT MDNI - Bites, oral sex, canines, hickeys, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, light dirty talk, foreplay…

Lenght : 5k

Notes : I don’t know, I feel like I could have done better. There are some smut parts that I liked more than others, but I don’t know. I think I’ll do it again later, I also tried to contain myself in detail (as a test, but I think I will continue to write with many details)

NETEYAM: 22 y.o / Y/N: 20 y.o

NA'VI WORDS : TANHI: Star / Bioluminescent freckles; KARYU: Teacher

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As long as you can remember, Neteyam Sully has always been the person closest to you, covering your back every time you created trouble in the Omatikaya clan or got into trouble with your own family. Fortunately your parents trusted Neteyam blindly, after all he was the son of the Olo'eykte and as he grew up, his reputation grew with him, making him worthy of the trust of the whole clan. You could consider him your best friend, who understood and appreciated your rebellious spirit and so contrasted with his, creating a perfect balance in your relationship, as one gave the other what one lacked.

When you were younger it seemed easier to see you only as friends, but when you came of age you found it difficult to see Neteyam only as a friend. You had to admit that he had become a handsome Na'vi, an excellent warrior and probably the definition of perfection in the flesh, always teasing him about things like "You are Eywa’s favorite" and similar phrases. It was a fact that Neteyam excelled at everything he experimented with, so much so that he was the first Na'vi of his group to complete his Iknimaya on the first try, so you assumed he was perfect at everything. You never tried to make him understand your true feelings, intimidated by the fact that he would probably reject you and drive you away, ruining a friendship that lasted for years. So you arrived at the age of twenty with a huge crush on your best friend, watching in silence as the young Na'vi attached to him and flirted to become his companion and one day Tsahìk. You were heartened that he never told you about a particular girl, so you weren’t afraid to lose him yet, not wanting to realize that one day it’ll be too late to come out.

"Yn? Why are you so thoughtful?" Neteyam asked you as you walked through the forest, to reach your secret place where you two spent most of your time. "Mh? A-Ah, nothing, I was just seeing if there were fruits around to collect and take with us" You replied, smiling at the Na'vi near you, trying to drive away all the thoughts that haunted your mind. "Are you sure? If you need to talk to me about something, here I am, you know ma Tanhì" His sweet and caring voice was just one of many curses that didn't help your arduous feat of not thinking of him as a possible partner, but only as a childhood friend. "Yes" you hissed, forcing a smile and then turning away from him, bringing it back on the path before you. You kept walking for a few minutes and then you stopped because of Neteyam who got stuck in his footsteps. You looked at him worried, thinking that he had stepped on a poisonous animal that created paralysis or something like this, but then he turned to you with an embarrassed and shy look. "Ma Tanhì… can I ask you something?" he asked nervously, while scratching the back of his neck, noticing a slight veil of redness on his cheeks. "Umh… yes, tell me" you answered, approaching him, trying to figure out what question might embarrass him this way. "How do you get a girl?" The question hit you directly where it would hurt you most. "I-I mean, I’m asking you because you’re my only female friend, and I know asking Kiri would be the same as being mocked by all my siblings, and my mom isn’t the type to make that clear, saying things like 'follow your heart' or 'be yourself', so… I was hoping to hear it from you," he continued shyly.

At that moment all your beliefs collapsed like a house of cards, realizing that it was now too late even to mention that you had a crush on him. You didn’t react right away, your heart weighed so much that it crushed your lungs, taking away your ability to speak. After a few seconds you began to laugh, hiding your pain behind this action, hoping that Neteyam would not notice from your eyes that you were hurt. "The mighty warrior Neteyam, son of the Olo'eyktan and golden boy of the Omatikaya clan does not know how to get a girl? Really?" You asked ironically, knowing perfectly well that every girl in the clan would fall at his feet with a simple smile or greeting. "Neteyam, knowing you, you’ll just need to introduce yourself to this girl and she’ll be at your feet." your voice was a little tougher but sincere. You started walking in the forest followed by Neteyam who was trying to keep your quick step. "Let’s say she’s not like the other girls, this girl probably doesn’t even see me… Or if she does, she doesn’t do it the way I would" Unknowingly Neteyam was stabbing your heart repeatedly with those words. "Neteyam, c'mon. All the village women have a crush on you, you are the ideal type of all, so I doubt that 'this girl' doesn't see you as you would like" You snort while moving the plants to walk, feeling the look of Neteyam burn on your back and then sigh. "I’m telling you, that’s it. Y/n, you’re my…best friend, help me. Please, I promise I’ll cover you with your parents when you run off in the middle of the night, whatever you want" his desperate voice made you laugh, having never heard he beg like this.

"And you’ll have to take Tuk and my little sister Popiti out whenever they want. Plus, you will accompany me and Kiri to collect beads and objects in the forest" You turned to him suddenly, finding him a few inches away from your body. backing up because of the short distance between your bodies. "All right, will you help me?" he lowered his voice quietly, looking you in the eye while waiting for your answer. "Yes… Tell me about this girl." You back off before you start walking again, trying to calm your heart that was starting to run in your chest. Your tone was slightly cold, you didn’t really want to hear him talk about his crush, but as his friend you couldn’t even back out, not after he was always there for you. "Well, she’s… you know…" he began in a dreamy, excited tone, following the direction you were taking. "Perfect. There’s not much else to describe her with. She’s different from all the girls I’ve ever met, she’s kind, caring, and she loves being with kids. I know she’s a rebellious spirit and she likes to make things. is perfect, then her hair-" you stopped him before he could continue to describe her and go into pseudo-romantic details like the smell of her hair or the sound of her laughing. "That’s enough, I could throw up if you started listing the physical characteristics too" Neteyam laughed embarrassedly, remaining behind you. "Have you already come out? Or have you at least made her think you’re interested?" Your voice became slightly gloomy, and then stopped once you arrived at your secret place.

The place was lovely, you had found it as children and from that day had become your place, there was a small waterfall that created a kind of crystalline lake that connected to a small river hidden by high plains and thick nature. You and Neteyam sat on the grass to talk more comfortably. "No, I don’t know how to tell her or make her understand… I thought it would be easier, but every time I try, she doesn’t understand it or she starts laughing thinking that maybe I’m joking" he sighed heavily, and then he looks up to the sky. "And how did you 'try'?" Your eyes met his, trying to help him in some way, even if you would have preferred to do the opposite. You still had to realize that Neteyam could fail in something as easy as courtship. "Lo'ak told me to show interest, to be empathetic and to be myself, but all this I already did. My mother said that showing myself confident would be attractive, but I’m confident and direct in words, and showing respect." Neteyam dropped on his back and snorted, clearly frustrated by the situation, which you also noticed from the nervous oscillation of his tail "'Teyam, I know no one more respectful than you, as I said, you would be the perfect mate for any girl in the village." You admitted looking at the guy who was now lying next to you, unable to look away from his sculpted body, following every line of his body, enchanted by how his chest rose and lowered with every breath.

"Then what do I do… Why doesn’t she understand? It’s obvious that I’m doing something wrong in the courtship, ma Tanhì" his head turned towards you, looking at you while you were sitting and watching him, making him blush slightly. "Maybe start complimenting her, girls love that. Put your hand in her hair when you talk to her, like moving a strand behind her ear, looking for physical contact makes understand your intentions, especially by the way you do it. Oh! Make her laugh, if you can make her laugh, surely you have done most of the work" your voice was bitter in your throat, you were hating giving that kind of advice knowing that he would use them with who knows who. Neteyam as he watched you listening attentively and taking mental notes of what you advised him. " And be attentive to the details, what interests her etc… if you remember important events in her life or what she loves to do, it is a clear sign of interest. Plus if you have common interests, could you do it together, for example, she likes hunting?" he looked at you enchanted for a few seconds, then nodded and said "Yeah, she likes it" his voice lowered slightly, as he looked at you, hoping that you would understand. "Well, you can ask her to hunt with you. You’re a great hunter, you’ll definitely impress her. And then… umh, I don’t know, maybe be present in her days, even with a greeting, maybe looking for her look or bringing her something you know she might like. And be direct, let her know that you like her, maybe you take her and tell her, you create the right atmosphere… yeah, you know… things like that" You looked away from Neteyam’s, feeling a strong twinge in your heart that made it hard to speak again, feeling as if I had helped him get away from you. "What if she doesn’t understand it? she’s a good friend, and I don’t know if she’ll reciprocate" You clenched your jaw, maybe understanding who that girl was. Your mutual friend had been acting weird with you for weeks, and Neteyam was acting strangely the same way. Now all the dots were connecting in your mind. " He will understand, if you will be directed with there is another way. If it is not a skxawng. In case you make yourself heard and give her special attentions." You said with clenched teeth, unable to hide the annoyance anymore.

"Ma Tanhì," he whispered, approaching you, sitting again just to lay two fingers under your chin, turning your face towards him. Your noses brushed lightly as his eyes rolled down your lips. "And as actions?… what should I do?" his hoarse voice struck you in a strange way the back and the lower abdomen. "U-umh… Maybe you should… w-well" The breath died in your throat, going to create a knot that pushed down all the words that were going to come out of your lips. " Hmm? I should what, ma Tanhi?" your noses rubbed against each other again, and for a few seconds you deluded yourself that he wanted to kiss you, perhaps failing to realize what was happening. His eyes returned to yours, making you feel a flock of Sturmbeest in your belly. "L-like… kissing her" You whispered with a thread of voice, while his free hand went to move behind your ear some strands of hair, then caress your cheek with his thumb. You swallowed loudly, noticing how Neteyam’s eyes seemed so concentrated in yours, leaving you amazed. "Should I?" His words made you take a deep breath, feeling suddenly weak. "You should…" Neteyam’s smile caught your eyes, staring at his opened lips, which received a mischievous smirk. "Yes, I should."

Suddenly a strong heat hit your body, causing your heart to pump as much blood as possible into your veins as your cheeks burned. Neteyam’s lips met yours, his hands moved from your face to hold the sides of your neck, pressing the thumbs on your jaw. You stood by that unexpected approach, and then only realized it when Neteyam’s tongue pounded against your lips and welcomed it into your mouth. You felt his sweet taste because of the fruit that you both had eaten just before walking into the forest, you moaning in his lips trying to break away from the passionate kiss to catch your breath. Neteyam bit your lip, pulling it with his fangs, now moving his hands between your hair and around your waist, pressing your head against his lips making you groan as your flickering fingers grazed the hard skin of his abdomen. His warm skin contracting under your fingers, as if you were made of pure fire, so much so that when you felt more confident of yourself and your body, you sat on top of him. Your legs tied to his pelvis, squeezing him to you as he did to your body, shuddering when his hand that was once on his waist was now climbing up your bare back, making you arch your body like a cat. You trembled when he came off your lips with a snap that accompanied the sound of the waterfall shattering against the surface of the water, making you pant and gasp to regain the air you had lost. Your red face and half-closed eyes while Neteyam pressed your fingertips on your body.

You feared, for a second, that everything would be over after that kiss and that the embarrassment would lead you two to stay away, but your fears were swept away when you tried to get up from his legs and Neteyam prevented you, starting to kiss your jaw. In silence your bodies were calling each other, you felt the pressure of his whole being against you and new electric shocks hit your back. His soft, moist lips drew wet kisses on your jaw, starting to bite and suck down your neck as your head bent backwards, keeping your eyes half closed. His tongue was even more raw with your already sensitive neck, rough and greedy explored every inch of your skin, occasionally pressing his canines, panting raucously as he savored you. Letting sweet moans come out of your throat in despair as your fingers crawled into his braids, seeking comfort. The curious and hungry eyes of Neteyam studied your skin, feeling contentment in feeling the trembling and shivers he caused you, enjoying your heavy breaths and the noises you made to contain the moans, as if you could be ashamed of something he was trying to hear with such desperation. Your back gently collided against the grass when Neteyam stretched you under him, sliding his lips down your body, as his fingers gently removed the braided top that covered your breasts, as if to give you time to stop him if you wanted. Your eyes rolled backwards as his rough tongue collided against your nipple, and his hand crept in agonizing slowly between your legs, caressing it. You bit your lip violently when you felt the gentle and circular movements of his thumb on your clitoris, feeling the chills come down and hit right where Neteyam was playing with his fingers.

The red cheeks began to burn on your face, as you carried a hand to your mouth to force you not to let him hear your stifled moans, even if your hot body betrayed you. A smothered scream of pleasure instinctively came out of your lips when Neteyam’s fingers slid very easily into you. You suddenly felt airless, your eyes wide open and your body trembling, eager to hear what else he had in store for you. Neteyam’s hoarse laugh made your tail stand on end behind you, while the tip of your head swelled because of excitation, making you blush even more. "No need to be embarrassed, it’s normal that you like this, ma Tanhì" he whispered against your skin, making you arch your back again because of his rough pumping on your breasts. "Shh, baby, just… enjoy the moment and let me hear how much you like it" Neteyam’s voice was getting lower and slower, more sensual, knowing that you would like this. Swallow loudly when Neteyam made his way up to your thighs, leaving behind a trail of burning wet kisses, accompanying his movements with his fingers firmly inside you, which continued to move as if they were waves, making your legs tremble. Your sensitive breasts made you shudder because of the light breeze and saliva that the boy had left on the tip, and when you lowered your head to look for his eyes, you found him blowing against the bundle of nerves that yearned to be satisfied. You once again felt his tongue but this time he was working through your needy folds, loving the way one of his muscles could make you feel all that ecstasy. You whined as your hands went to clench the soft grass to find a foothold to release the frustration of too much pleasure, dropping your head backwards, hoping to muffle as much as possible your desperate moans. Neteyam looked for your face, eager to notice the impatience of your eyes and watch your face become a mess just for him, with the aim of giving you as much pleasure as possible, wanting to feel you up to bring you orgasm. He started savoring your intimacy, tickling your folds with the tip of your tongue, making you grunt as you clenched your teeth. When he started sucking, you felt something break in you, you couldn’t even cover your mouth as you groaned his name without shame, watching as he was focused on feeding on your excitement. Your hand again found place in his hair, pulling them and accompanying his movements as he gave you pleasure. "Look how wet you are for me, you wanted me so badly?" Neteyam said with sensual voice, between a lick and a lukewarm breath to make you shiver and whimping.

Your legs began to feel tired and heavy around his cheeks, trying to close together to stop feeling that tingling and flickering caused by too much pleasure. Neteyam wrapped his big hands around your thighs, opening them wider, locking them as much as possible against the ground below as his fingers sank into your soft flesh. His jaw continued to move between your legs with a heartbreaking rhythm that went from slow and gentle to rude and fast, making your walls tighten around his wet muscle. Neteyam broke away from you when he felt that your intimacy was wet enough not to make you feel pain when he slips inside you. His eyes peered at your body beneath him, still trembling and sensitive, touching your already sweaty skin, worshipping how you writhed and gasped under him. You could only take courage later, drawing him to your lips after your fingers hooked to the necklace on his neck. You tasted your own intrinsic moods in your best friend’s saliva as you embraced his body between your legs, rubbing his covered intimacy with your naked, feeling him grunting in your mouth. You smiled as you felt him vulnerable above you, taking advantage of that moment to put yourself on top of him, your back arched toward him to allow you to continue the kiss that was giving relief to both of you. You began to rub yourself on his still-covered sex, feeling pleasure when his throbbing muscle found space in your heat, moaning with pleasure, as your hands on his chest could feel the contractions and chills running through his body as well.

"Hmhm, I know something you’d like to try." Neteyam said as he wrapped his hands around your bare hips, observing the red and purple spots that covered your body. "What?" you whispered in response, as you detached yourself from his lips, observing him with ardent desire. One of his hands came up on your face, placing three fingers on your jaw and thumb on your lips, caressing your soft mouth, and then gently tapping on it. "Open." he ordered. His eyes following your every move, worshipping the way you obeyed him by opening your mouth and taking his thumb in your mouth, without breaking eye contact. You instinctively began to lick and suck his finger greedily, whining as you felt the slightly salty taste against your tongue. "Good girl, you already understood" Neteyam continued, as his hand on his side began to explore every inch of your body with desire. The Na'vi lowered you to the height of his loincloth and you smiled before taking your face away from where Neteyam was leading you, back on his face, sliding his salivated thumb out of his mouth. "Hmhm, here I decide, 'Teyam" you whispered to his ear, noticing with the corner of your eye his jaw contracted as your fingers find their way under his loincloth, just after picking up some of your moods still dripping from your intimacy, wrapping your phalanges around his needy manhood. You heard him growl after panting because of your touch, his chest rising and the frustrated breath of his nostrils against your neck, making you smile for the effect you had on him. Your hand began to slide up and down his erection with gradual speed, you felt his hoarse and rough groans against your skin, his hands clasping your thighs and his breathless breaths. Your lips went to tease the shell of his ear, leaving some magnate kisses or slight licks. When you felt quite satisfied with how he was also pining under you, you lowered yourself making sure you kept eye contact. Your hand went to move and later rip off his loincloth; Neteyam bit his lip and then groaned deeply when your mouth wrapped around his glans, starting to tease the tip with your tongue. Your head slid along his entire length to completely conceal it, immediately moving the head with greed, making him hiss and wince under you. The vein of his penis pulsed incessantly against the inside of your cheek, as he bit his lip and carried a hand to collect your hair in a tight vise.You felt his erection collide several times against the deepest point of your throat, letting you fuck your mouth by Neteyam, before breaking off with tears of pleasure sliding on your face. Your lips swollen and reddened, covered with drool as you tried to start breathing regularly sent him into ecstasy.

The pre-cum that came out of Neteyam’s sex illuminated your lips, making him turn on more to the vision of you with swollen and dirty lips of him. He took you by the hair and carried you back under him, and then he opened your legs and slid inside you with a facility that you would not have expected. You moaned breathlessly as his hips collided with yours in that way, carrying your hands against his back, beginning to scratch and tighten his skin with need. Your cheeks reddened that welcomed other lukewarm tears, your legs tight around his pelvis and the strong heat that at each push accumulated inside you. His tail wrapped around your heel, holding you still due to spasms of pleasure. Neteyam’s hoarse groans did not delay in striking your ears, as he held you by the hips, caressing your trembling thighs and twitching at each of his lunges. Your sweaty bodies colliding with every little movement, making you more hot and eager to consume you. Your lips met once again, growling at each other every time Neteyam pushed against your G-spot, your willows stirring each other’s hormones still stuck in your mouths. You bit his lips when he began to push and grind inside you shamelessly, growling at him before whining, making him excite even more as he purposely struck where your walls held him tighter due to sensitivity. You felt Neteyam’s body stiffen and twitching above you just before reaching orgasm and pouring out of you in time, then carrying two fingers inside you and starting to pump until you reach your peak shortly after him.

You whimpered loudly after the strong orgasm that mercilessly hit you; your heavy, sore thighs as your orgasm crashed into him and hot splashes of your cum poured over his hand. He gasped entranced, stunned by the lust and how your body looked so soft and relaxed after cumming. You took long deep breaths, looking at the green leaves so far away from you because of the trees too high, the sun that lightly struck the place where you were made you return to reality. You blush when Neteyam lays next to you, looking up at him too.

"Well, then…" He started, while you recovered with your hand the pieces of clothes to cover yourself again, hoping that you both would turn a blind eye. "Hmm…" You whine while avoiding his gaze with all your heart. "Do you think after all this, you realize I have a crush on you? If even this way you don’t understand that I like you, I don’t know what other kind of attention to give you to make it clear" he said casually. You shuddered and looked at him in shock. "Excuse you?" you whispered not really wanting to understand the meaning of his words. "I say, did you understand that you are the girl I was trying to conquer?" Your eyes met and you swallowed. "I don’t know how to ask you more directly than that, and don’t think I’m not afraid to ruin our friendship. But I like you, not just aesthetically, i love every part of you. I’ve been trying to make you understand this for six years, not that I didn’t like you as a child…" His voice was slightly shaky, as you watched him in silence, trying to figure out how to respond. "You never let me know…" you whispered as you blushed. Neteyam laughed and led you to lean on his chest, wrapping your body with arms "You really are a skxawng, ma Tanhì. I’m supposed to be teaching you. But how to figure out that someone has a crush on you." You hit him blushing while hiding your face on his chest. "Yeah, yeah, lessons from a guy who doesn’t even know how to come out and only does it after having sex with his crush. The great Karyu, Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan" You teased him and then got pinched on the hips by his hands. "Not that you ever noticed I’ve had a crush on you for ages." Neteyam looked at you perplexed, and you couldn’t contain the laughter.

"See? Other than 'lessons'. You’re more Skxawng than I am, ma 'Teyam."

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　

TAG LIST : @riatesullironalite @shadowmoonlight0604

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mel-loly · 7 months

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mercymaker · 1 month

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𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍 & 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐄 + 💜😘🌊

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schumachersnightmare · 3 months

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Could you do one for Fernando Alonso with wife reader where she catch him doing one of the Tiktok's video (the one where he's spinning in front of the microwave🤭) and she tease him about it. And he accidently posted it with her reaction of him doing it and the Internet went wild! I don't know if it make sense. Add something you'd like though. Thanks!!

Ahh I absolutely love this request!! I love that tiktok so much. I'm such a softy for Fernando I had to write this one first. Hope you like it!

OG tiktok

BTS tiktok

Word count: 650+

Warnings: None just pure fluff

The season has yet to begun but everyone was at the factory in full swing. Fernando was called in to start his usual preseason requirements, seat fit, simulator, briefings, and of course media duties.

“Just a little more carino, then we can leave.” Fernando said as he pressed a kiss to your cheek before being pulled away by Jimmy, the social media manager. Lance always seemed to disappear whenever the camera came out, leaving Fernando to fill in the gaps.

Your stomach growled. Lunch had been a few hours ago and Fernando was nowhere in sight. You walked over to the break room hoping to grab a light snack to hold you over until Fernando was done and the two of you could get dinner.

You pushed the door open and froze.

Your lips tightened together as you tried to contain the laughter building inside you. Little squeaks escaped as you tried your best to just walk around over to the fridge. Your cheeks turning bright red as you watched the scene in front of you unfold.

Your husband had no idea you had even entered the break room. Fernando was focused on making the tiktok. His phone sat in the microwave as he crouched down and slowly spun in a circle.

As soon as he stood up, he was surprised by the eruption of laughter. Fernando turned around towards the fridge where his wife was bent over in hysterics, one hand holding onto the fridge for support.

“It's funny, no?” Fernando asked, thinking you were laughing at his tiktok and not the behind the scenes view you had. “Jimmy and I thought of it together! It's good, no?” He asked as he walked over and slid his arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest. His hand danced up and down your side as your face pressed into his shoulder as you tried to calm yourself down, tears spilling onto his shirt.

“It's funny, Nando, it really is.” you wheezed as you wiped the tears from your eyes. Your lips pressed against the scruffy facial hair on his cheek before you stood up properly. “It's great, I think you captured the essences of pizza rolls perfectly.” You teased him and he rolled his eyes at you before his fingers attacked you, tickling your sides in retaliation.

The rest of the day continued as usual. Fernando and you shared dinner together before cuddling up in bed for the night. Your head rested on his shoulder as you scrolled through social media. That's when the Aston Martin account popped up on your tiktok. The video was pretty funny you had to admit. Fernando peaked over to take a look to see what you were giggling at. A smile grew across his face as he watched his beautiful wife giggling in his arms watching his tiktok. Giggles continued to spill from your lips as you went through the comments.

User1: old man has really lost it this time

User2: No! Don't microwave us!

User3: is that y/n in the background?

User4: yea she's in the behind the scenes

User5: Let! Him! Cook!

Behind the scenes? You didn't remember any behind the scenes video being shot. You clicked on the profile and scrolled until it popped up. Sure enough, there you were looking like a tomato trying to not laugh at your man-child husband before completely breaking down when he finished filming.

“Nando!” You yelped as you lightly slapped his chest and shoved your phone in his face. He chuckled as he looked at it and the comments. All the comments on the behind the scenes video were about you and your slow descent into hysterics. Everyone online was obsessing over you and your relationship with your husband. There were dozens of not hundreds of comments talking about how cute you two were together.

“I might have to give up my tiktoker of the year award.” He teased as he brushed the hair out of your bright red face.

~-~

Let me know if there's anything I could improve on formatting wise, normally I double space when I write in my editor but to me it looks like a lot between paragraphs on here, however if you prefer it let me know. Thanks!

#fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #f1 x reader #fernando alonso x you #formula one x reader #mel writes #fluff

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melzzles · 2 years

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xiao in heat? but like cat hybrid xiao.

LISTEN because contrary to popular belief xiao would be SUCH a horny little kitty,,

he's literally a virgin but when you actually help him during his first heat you're just so gentle with him and so sweet to him he falls in love with you all over again.

unbeknownst to you though, this corrupted your cute kitty.

he doesn't care what you're doing - cooking, cleaning, watching tv on the couch. you could just be getting home and stepping through the door, it doesn't really matter - xiao latches onto you immediately, licking and kissing your face affectionately.

now while this seems sweet and innocent at first, the way he subtly humps you doesn't go unnoticed.

it doesn't take long for him to get hard either, the bit of friction and your scent is driving him crazy already.

loud purring is coming from him, his whole body vibrating as he tries to keep from making sounds more akin to mewling than moaning, his small hips stuttering against what part of your body he's humping.

"y-y/n...l-let's make love."

and this is how it always goes.

now, let me explain: when you first helped xiao through his heat, it stirred something inside him. he's never been intimate with anyone before, or had himself exposed in front of someone - yet everything you said and everything you did made him feel incredibly loved in his vulnerable state. and he loved every second of it.

the most intimate and raw form of love - he concluded that that's what sex is.

he wants you to feel his love and wants to feel yours.

so now you're stuck with an unbelievably horny kitty that won't be able to sleep without having had his cummies <333

it's like he's ALWAYS in heat.

can NEVER get enough of you.

he'd also NEVER refer to sex as, well, sex. it's always 'making love' or maybe 'mating'.

if you were to call it 'fucking' though, he'd get so so embarrassed! please tease him by talking dirty like that, he'd literally start squirming,,

VERY vocal and sensitive boy, I could keep talking about him endlessly,,

#sub genshin impact #sub!genshin impact #sub genshin #sub!genshin #dom reader #dom!reader #sub xiao #sub!xiao #xiao x you #xiao x reader #mel replies

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archiarthur · 5 months

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Chell and Wheatley beloved

Also im insane about portal stories

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melit0n · 4 months

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Half-Starved

- Oneshot

- Obsessive! Ghost/Reader

- Word Count: 3.2K

- Warnings: Descriptions of gore, canabalism as a metaphor for love, mentions of past domestic abuse, stalking

- Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52474849

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley was born hungry.

Born with a relentless nagging feeling curled up right between his oesophagus and the squirming muscle of his stomach. From the very moment Simon opened his eyes, he was hungry for something he would never have. Left to starve in the gloom of the locked cupboard he was shoved into for not shutting up. He spent fifteen-odd years greedy for any drop of affection he could get. Anything he could grasp and hold onto, no matter how many bruises it would leave him with. No matter how long he would have to spend chained up like a bad dog in the corner of his room licking his wounds telling himself that it was worth it. That the blood was worth it. The pain was worth it.

Anything to be acknowledged.

Now, once again finding comfort in the gloom of his home, he is still hungry. Even more so. However, he didn’t like to be touched, because of him, but he still craved it. Maybe too much. He wanted, wants, to be held tight enough so he doesn’t break. Wants to be vulnerable. But he’s still afraid he’ll end up being a scared kid looking into the slit eyes of a snake again.

He blames his younger self for the predicament he’s found himself in, wants to sit down with him and shake him by the shoulders and ask why. Why he put himself through that for that long. But even so, he can’t blame the kid. He knows how hungry he is now; feels the scraping like dull claws against the soft spot between his liver and his spleen. He can only imagine what it was like for him as a kid. He’s blocked most of those memories out now, though.

He sits through the tugging, the pulling, through each dull meeting. Each dark night spent alone in his bunk. Each evening he spends licking wounds that just won't close.

Unfortunately, this issue, this dilemma, is a hard one to fix. A hard want to satiate. Being a 6’4 SAS agent with a heavy Manchester accent and an apparently unapproachable demeanour, most people tending to avoid him in the streets, makes it a bit hard to gain attention, let alone affection.

But then there’s you.

The first word that would come to his mind is kind.

Out of the blue, draped in moonlight and glimmering stars, you begin to appear everywhere. He doesn’t know if you’ve moved here recently, or if his brain has randomly decided to notice your presence, but you’re here. And there. And everywhere, really.

He sees you in the local corner shop, holding tightly onto the baggy sleeve of whoever you’ve brought along for your midnight excursion, brushing your hand, intently, against that of your work friends on the crowded train you both take every day into the city. You use physical affection as not only a way to show affection itself, platonic or romantic, he isn’t particularly good at guessing unless it’s incredibly obvious, but as a form of comfort and encouragement as well.

In less than a month into his leave, you’ve managed to become a staple in his civilian life. He sees you in the morning, always at the train station with breakfast and lunch in hand looking quizically around to see if you’ve missed your train like a doubtful deer. He knows you know you haven’t. You’re like him; you’ve got an obsession with time. While his is instilled by the harsh words of the military, yours is brought about by a tight work schedule. And maybe something else. He wonders what the something else is as you both board the already stuffed train, both standing in the same carriage full of warm, tired bodies.

He sees you in the afternoon as well, sitting outside on a park bench with a friend eating lunch. While you talk, you have a habit of taking tiny crumbs off of your sandwich, flicking them off to the ratty pigeons that flock around your feet like moths to a flame. You always have the same lunch; the same sandwich bread from the same corner shop with the same filing. You have a thing with regularity, routine, as well, it seems. Just like him.

Of course, he sees you in the evenings too. You both take the same train home, and almost always end up so close yet so far from each other on the carriage. Your work friend gets off at the stop two before yours and Simon’s; always leaving you with a pat on the shoulder and a closed eye smile, which you almost always return. You have a habit of doing a little jump when you get off the train which Simon finds quite cute. It’s almost as if you’re actually afraid of the gap.

Of the fall.

Either way, you part ways without knowing you’re parting from him, leaving him incomplete in an odd way, and head back to your home. Ghost has an impulse to follow you, in between curiosity at where you live and to make sure you’re safe, but Simon urges himself to head home. To sleep. You linger in his thoughts each time he walks back.

At first, he’s oddly amazed, a bit in awe, if he were honest, that you can give so much affection so easily, touch so easily, and receive it tenfold from the people around you.

Then, there’s annoyance, titering on the fine, chipped-away line of anger. Like a mantra, he asks why it’s fair someone can give, give and keep on giving, let alone receive something back, and he can’t? How can you hold someone so closely and not be afraid of a knife in your back?

Maybe that’s Ghost talking, he thinks.

Eventually, he falls off the fine line of annoyance and anger into the muddied trench that is jealousy. Jealous not only of you, how you can give and receive so easily, but of the people in your life who get to experience the affection that you give to any warm body that passes by you. Said people who don’t understand how precious and rare that experience is to others. To him. He wants to taste it. Badly.

Then, it morphs. Twists and turns like a dying thing, all red with chunks of fur sticking at odd angles, into attraction. Turning from a want to be held, a quiet plea to the void for you to keep him together for just a little bit longer, to a need. A need to kiss until both your lips are bloody and raw, bitten and chewed like a pomegranate, seeping your liquid life for him to drink as an elixir. He wants, needs, hungers to feel the comforting weight of your blood in the bottom of his stomach.

He’s seen the way you kiss, and God above he needs it. Needs you. He doesn’t care if it’s the fleeting, platonic kisses you gift to your friends on the cheek (he wants you to take a chunk out of his cheek. Wants you to chew on the fat like the gum you always have in your mouth), or if it’s the rough ones you give to the men you bring home. The ones that have them chasing your lips for more, which you always allow because you never stop giving.

Simon wants it. Ghost needs it.

Consequently, the dull scratching of the claws in between his liver and his spleen grows sharper. After years of the scratching, the pulling, the tugging, he’d thought his hunger pang’s talons had grown weary, but he feels them. He feels the sharp ache like a pistol’s bullet and it bloody hurts. Has him hunched over on his bed trying to claw out his stomach because, for the first time in years, it's hurting him.

And, for the first time in years, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley decides to listen.

As more time passes, more time spent getting soaked outside your house in the rain waiting for you to come home because you’re oddly late for all the time he’s known you, it changes again. Writhes around in his stomach and the fat in his veins, to something much worse. Much more harmful, at least, to you. In all the pain of his hunger, he contemplates taking chunks out of you. Maybe that will satiate the creature that squirms in his bloody viscera, laying claim to all of his innards in an attempt to get him to feed for once in his life.

To allow him to know what it feels like to be full, instead of half-starved.

Zoning out during meetings easily turns to daydreaming of taking one of his hunting knives to your flesh. Cut strips of skin, like your his sacrificial lamb to slaughter and devour, and finally put those butchering skills he gained to work somewhere other than on the field. He promises he’ll be delicate. Promises he’ll be kind. He wouldn’t dare show you the bloodthirsty rage his opponents see on the field.

Oh, and he can just imagine how you’d cry when he’d do so. He hates hearing people cry. After all, he’s haunted by the echoing sobs of someone lost to him in some distant, sun-stunned, sand-smothered land. But you? He doesn’t mind one bit. It’s another piece of you for him to consume, another piece of you that you can offer to him, gift to him, to bring you two together.

He knows how much it takes to be vulnerable, so he wouldn’t even be able to describe what he’d do to taste your tears. To savour your salty sadness upon his tongue and be able to offer comfort. To lick your face dry and hold you in his arms; warm body against warm body just like he’s daydreamed about.

The more time that passes, the further he falls.

On slightly rarer occasions, ones where he’s alone in the quiet of his room for longer than a human should be, he thinks about feeding your own lovingly cooked gore to you. Get’s him more riled up than he’d like to admit.

He can see it as clear as a freshly painted watercolour; a candle-lit dinner. Warm lighting. He’s tried his hardest to cover up the smell of his cigarettes for you, a scent that clings to his walls like mould, with roses. The smell of whatever he’s cooked for you permeating the air.

Soup sounds good, doesn’t it, love?

It’s a macabre yet intimate fairytale that finds its way into his thoughts when all else is quiet. Leaves him tossing and turning in his bed because the scraping just won't stop. He swears he's bleeding out from the inside, and he’ll break his own kneecaps from how long he’s been on the floor at your feet begging you to make it stop. To stop the scratching, the itching, the nagging feeling. For you to clean and stitch up his wounds, new and old.

He’s utterly enamoured with the thought. The idea of being that close to another human being. To be able to physically intertwine each other’s atoms through mutual consumption. To be sewn into the quantum patterns of your being. For you to feed him a proper meal like his parents never could.

He remembers being taught in his History class, the one with the old hag of a teacher who, with her droning words alone, convinced him not to take it for GCSEs, that in ancient times people used to eat each other as well. They did this so that in life, and eventually in death, the two of them would share an utterly unique bond, as well as each other's attributes.

He only really remembers that because his mates laughed at the idea of aristocratic Victorians eating mummies like it was a five-star meal for weeks after that lesson.

Even so, Ghost decides he could die happy on the field knowing that a part of you rested within him. That even when he was dead and gone, probably much earlier than he should be, you two would still be connected. He would have a piece of you, and you him.

And you, him. Mutual consumption. He doesn’t mind extra scars, extra wounds, because he knows you’ll lick them clean for him. Knows you wash them, stitch them up and check on them so they heal properly.

In the end, that is the intimacy he dreams of. The affection he wants from you.

His body is yours, as yours is his. Let him be yours. Let him feed. Let him fulfil you.

The idea leaves him with a small smirk on his face that Soap nudges him in the ribs for with a prodding grin of his own.

So, he makes a decision. For once, Simon and Ghost agree on something and work together as one instead of turning the other off for the greater good.

The decision? To feed. To finally know what it is like to be full instead of half-starved.

The scraping, the nagging, only grows stronger.

He makes it a point to bump into you as much as he can before his next mission.

Anywhere is a dinner table to him. On the crowded train, brushing his calloused hand against yours to ease the hunger for even a second. In the artificial lighting of the run-down corner shop, grabbing that bag of snacks that are just out of reach for you. Anything. Anything will do. But it only temporarily satiates the pang, doesn’t satisfy it. He just gets hungrier and hungrier and hungrier.

He knows you’ve begun to notice him. You’re getting hungry too. He just hopes it’s in the same way he hungers for you. He hopes you’re hungry for him, and him alone.

At first, you attempt to offer him platonic comfort, which, God above, tastes so sweet. You offer soft touches on his shoulder. You gift your fingers intertwining with his as you cross the street to his home because he’s gone off on another bender trying to stop turning over in his bed and seeing the inside of a coffin that he has to dig his way out of again.

‘N you’re just some poor night owl who’s trying to be kind.

It becomes a routine. Both for you and him. You know he’ll come out of the pub at quarter to one and you know he’s expecting you. You’ll walk the same walk to his home, fumbling with his keys as he looks at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen on a man, hands intertwined. You’ll still carry him home and close the door softly with your foot as you lay him on his couch and get him a glass of water and whatever painkiller he has lying around. You’ll still stay as he chats, drunkenly, to you. You’ll take care of him and he’ll be whole again, for just a moment.

At least until the morning comes, anyways.

He hungers for your touch the same way water hungers for the cavities of people’s lungs. Hungers for your skin like he hungers for the nicotine in his cigarettes. Hungers and begs and pleads until you both fall like Icarus; wax melting and dripping off your backs as you try and crawl your way back to the sun, back to the light, while he drags you down into the depths of the deep blue.

It's almost poetic.

In the midst of your drowning, the front door opening startles you out of your stupor. You do that a lot, Simon notes. You��ll black out and stare at a wall for hours, whether it be to awkward silence or a piece of music. He doesn’t question it, verbally, at least. From how easily you dissociate, he’d say it's something you picked up a long time ago. He’ll find out when, eventually.

Carefully, you get up from the couch, approaching him as he walks over to the kitchen counter. The blue plastic bag he has rustles loudly in the spotless kitchen.

“What’s that?” You ask, gently, placing a hand on his shoulder to get a better look.

Please give me more.

He lets out a knowing grunt and pulls out two round, red fruits. At first, you mistake them for apples, but the star-shaped top throws you off.

“Pomegranates?”

He nods, looking into your eyes for some sort of approval.

Gingerly, you take one of the pomegranates out of his hand, his fingers twitching as the pads of your digits brush against his. Your eyes dart back and forth between him and the fruit as you do so, careful to earn his compliance as you inspect the fruit.

I’ll take anything you give. Just please give me more.

They’re a deep red, almost crimson, and the shine reflects your face on its vermilion skin.

“Chopping board,” He pauses, “please?”

Nodding absent-mindedly, you place the fruit back into his cupped hands.

You open the drawer behind the both of you and pull out an old chopping board, red soaked and stained into the wood that Ghost just can’t seem to get out. You place it on the counter next to the pomegranates, along with a clean bowl he didn’t even hear you grab, and then find your way to the knife block. Hearing the subtle shink of a blade against wood, Ghost turns and scrutinizes you as you try to remember which knife is the fruit knife. Choosing the shortest one, you hold it by the handle, facing downwards just like Simon taught you, and place it on top of the chopping board with stitched-up hands and missing fingers from all the times he’s begged for more. From all the times you’ve said you have nothing more to give, but he knows you always have more.

I’ll take even the spare and broken bits. Just look at me. Touch me. Let me be full.

You watch, intently, as he delicately cuts the top of the pomegranate off, slicing through the thick skin. Gently, he peels the layers of the pomegranate back, kissing each one with the tips of his fingers, letting it stain them something beautifully violent. He reveals the soft viscera inside, glancing back over to you again and again. Looking for something in your eyes you’re not sure you can give. He cuts it into quarters, continuously surprising you how utterly gentle he is with it, but not down to the skin. Leaving it in a fileted star-like shape, he turns it upside down on the bowl, and, using his hand, slowly shakes the seeds off of the fruit into the bowl.

Once he’s finished, sure he’s got all of the seeds off, he sets the empty corpse aside and just…stares at the bowl of red.

The silence is deafening. You want to fill it.

Simon takes a bloody scoop of the red viscera with his right hand, letting the pinkish juice dribble down his hand, his forearm, and drip onto the immaculately clean counter.

The kitchen smells like bleach. It makes the back of your throat itch.

He offers his hand out towards you, like an olive branch, like some lurid type of eucharist, and, like the obedient dog you are, you feast.

“I love you.” He mumbles, fondly watching the muscle of your tongue dart out to catch the pinkish juice dribbling from your frothing maw.

Be full. Let me fill you, and in turn, you fill me. Feed on me until there is nothing left. Let us decompose, intertwined. Please. Just say you love me, too.

You’re eating, and you begin to repeat it, but Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley taught you well not to speak with your mouth full.

-------------------

Note- If anybody believes this needs the Dead Dove: Do Not Eat tag, please let me know. I've seen much more horrific works without the tag, but I'm mildly worried this is inching into the category.

I've spend the past week hearing Abbey by Mitski at every turn, so I wrote this out in an hour or two. I think if I heard that song or saw something about bloody pomegranates one more time I think I would've started chewing the flesh off of my own bones. Canabalism as a metaphor for love is a incredibly profound, and, in some ways, poetic literature device for the sheer destruction a toxic relationship can cause, so, I wanted to try my hand at it! And also to stop myself from clawing my face off from hearing anything about this canabalism metaphor from literally everywhere on the internet.

I apologise for this being description and inner monologue heavy. I wanted to focus on the horror aspects in this rather than the romance aspects, so I'm sorry if you didn't get what you came here for.

Do tell if this feels too out of character for Ghost. It was originally written for König, but I changed it last minute. Thank you for sitting down and reading my work! It means a lot <3

I'll leave it up to you if the metaphor is really a metaphor in the end.

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thehistoriangirl · 1 year

Text

The Never-Changing Things

I was supposed to write another thing, but this came out instead :D Hope you like it

Mel x gn!Reader--------1.6K-------SFW

Summary: You’re a musician under the clan Medarda’s wing, and while you haven’t touched the piano in a long time, you and Mel discover that there are some things that would never change regarding you two, no matter how much time has passed.

Tags: Light Angst, mostly Fluff| Mentions of one parent’s death (with no details)| Kinda domestic fluff (?)| Winter-y scenery

It has been a cold week, misty-stained the large windows dripping little tears made by the condensate water allowed you to see the city below. Between each melody of the piano, you heard the crackle of the hearth in the living room at your back.

Outside, blue roofs were filled with snow, mixing the buildings with their marble walls in an amorph, gigantic beast. Only the uneven little towers of the chimneys could be seen, slow, grey serpents ascending out of them.

Your fingers were warming up with each repetitive movement as you played the keys on the piano. The echo of each melody reverberating in the empty chamber like a ghost seconds after you stopped.

Mel told you the piano was there waiting for you to teach her—it was one of the many things Ambessa Medarda decided not to teach her in exchange for a more suitable activity.

You didn't dare to tell her that you barely remember the last time you have been sitting in front of a piano, the image of your mother teaching you diligently every afternoon even after she returned home exhausted being so hazy as Piltover’s view from the windows.

It had been so long, but your fingers moved with a memory of their own, your head nodding slightly as each note hit a correct harmony in the sequence of each little song you could recall.

Playing the piano wasn't a common activity to train your kid into, at least not inside Noxus, where other avocations were more useful, like languages, paleography, or even strategic games like chess. Only certain families—the ones already recognized to incline towards the arts—would do so. They were the background music inside the fancy parties organized by the wealthy clans and families.

No more utility than to maintain façades, but just as other props as expensive clothes, dignified portraits, or well-maintained gardens, these people would receive any collateral damage made to their patrons.

Your fingers got stuck in a loop of the last memory you could remember, an incomplete song your mother was teaching you a couple of days before her death. You frowned because the melody cut off abruptly every time you played it, the end always remain unfinished.

You pressed the last key in ripples, not hearing Mel´s heels muffled by the large carpets that were put since autumn when the house became much colder.

She cleared her throat, and you let the echo of the piano disappear before half-turning. Mel wasn’t wearing any coat, and her hair was down.

“Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

She sat on the couch closer to the piano, shaking her head slowly. "Don't worry, darling. I was working."

You frowned. “That’s not good. You should’ve been resting.” You sat back at your usual position, with your back toward her, and began to play again. “I remember you couldn’t sleep properly last night. I heard you.”

Mel sighed, and you had to hide your smile. “The doctor said it’s normal to have lingering coughs.”

“And? You shouldn’t wander around without a sweater unless you want to get the flu again.”

She stood up, taking the coat you had lay next to you. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take this one then.”

Back on the couch, she crossed her legs, the gold in her armor shining as if it were molten against the everchanging flames Mel sat across from. A yellowish art notebook sat on her lap as she flipped the pages filled with doodles in dark charcoal.

Mel had always written with so much force pressed into the papers, and you weren’t surprised her drawings followed the same principle.

“What are you doing?”

She chuckled, pencil already sliding graciously across the page. "What does it look like I'm doing, dear?"

You tilted your head, soft notes on repeat. Unconsciously you’d been changed the incomplete melody to what you remember was Mel’s favorite tune.

She noticed, smiling softly. “You still remember it.”

Your lips mimicked her smile as you observed your fingers move in synchronized moves, showing the tendons with each motion that resembled the piano’s insides. You felt like an instrument, then.

Outside, the wind began to howl. Night was falling quickly, the whole room was painted red and orange.

“When we were little, you’d escape after your lessons to hear me practice the same songs on repeat for hours.” You could hear the scraped paper; her breathing came with uneven little coughs she tried to hide as she crossed her legs to have her body completely covered by your coat. “I would never know how you didn’t get bored.”

You looked at her from the corner of your eyes. Her eyebrows pinched together in focus, lips forming a pout. It was the same expression back then.

“The music room was built to impress the guests while hosting parties," she said in a low tone. "That's why its windows were from roof to floor, framing the main garden. But…" Mel stopped, tapping the pencil against the notebook's spine. "It was also designed so beautifully that the musician could compose music efficiently. You can't fake inspiration like that if you want joyful, regal music."

"That's why it inspired you too, isn't it?" You kept her first drawing of you tucked somewhere inside your vanity, in the broken music box your parents gifted you on your twelfth birthday.

It was simple, and each time that Mel saw it you could see she got all flustered. Eyes averting yours, fingers fidgeting the Medarda’s ring. The charcoal was fading away, the paper crumbling apart, all as a result of not being made with specialized tools. But she tried, and you’ll always cherish that.

“When I was there, I could imagine I was somewhere else,” Mel muttered, and you stopped mid-song. She frowned, looking at you as you gazed at her. “What’s the matter?”

“If you’d ever have the chance, would you rather be a painter?” Because by choice, you wouldn’t have chosen to be a musician. You wanted to be useful to her outside playing for her in the spare time that each day was getting thinner, or to be praised by meaningless faces in each fundraiser she hosted. You didn't want to be only a pretty thing used as a mere decoration, even if for Mel you were more than that.

She contemplated the idea, looking at you and the flames of the hearth. "Probably not. I don't know. I can't imagine myself being something else than what I am now." Mel pressed her lips, nose crunching. "It's pointless."

You nodded, because she was right, as always. Those hypothetical scenarios stole you from sleep some nights, and now you knew that perhaps Mel suffered from them, too.

"But no. Even if I could rethink my choices, I would take them all the same. Because if I weren't me, I wouldn't have the opportunity to know you."

You smiled, heart fluttering. “Maybe we would be a musician and a painter working for the same clan.”

She tilted her head, taking away locks of black, curly hair that covered her eyes. They pop out from behind her ear too fast, it was both cute and funny.

"In that case, I'd be jealous of you playing the piano for someone else."

“Oh. But it will be remedied easily. I'll just play for you alone when the patrons weren't home."

Mel chuckled, gazing back at her drawing. "I don't think we only deserve stolen moments with each other."

Your fingers, now warm and familiar with the piano were flying from key to key, the same river of melodies flowing on repeat as you nodded to her. “No, we don’t,” you muttered.

“Can you keep playing the one you’re playing?” she said after a couple of minutes.

“Of course.” So you did.

Looking out at the windows, you saw the streetlights shining between the navy blue of the snow reflecting the nocturnal sky, sometimes you could see your reflection when the flames took force and outshined the outside. You looked happy, a soft, almost secretive smile playing on your lips as you gazed at Mel's image, head tilted against one armrest, notebook hugged to her chest, eyes closed.

You repeated the song one last time, much slower, soothing her in a lullaby until your fingers itched with the impulse of covering her with a blanket. The echo of last note echoed in the room as you stopped, quietly tiptoeing toward her room to retrieve a blanket.

The couch was big enough for two people, comfortably sitting next to hers as you unfolded the blanket and covered both, taking your coat from her firm grasp just as well as the notebook.

Checking the charcoal, you noticed an almost identical copy of her first drawing. Where before the piano almost swallowed you, now you stood with the back straight taller than it, your face tilted toward her in a confident little smile.

You tilted your body to kiss her forehead, muttering: “I love you, Mel.”

She blinked with dormant eyes, smiling. "Come here to rest for a moment. I'm cold." You rest next to her, your head resting against her chest as the steady rhythm of her heart accompanied by the cracking fire lulled you to sleep.

It wouldn't have surprised you, that just some months after, in a fundraiser, you saw a full-color painting of that same drawing, almost covering one wall. Your dark clothes absorbed the red lights of the fire at your right, while your smiling face was bathed in silver moonlight. Outside, the world was a reign of white and blue, where you were the center of it all.

#arcane mel x reader #mel x reader #arcane mel medarda #mel medarda x reader #mel medarda #mel fanfic #mel medarda fanfic #mel/reader #mel/you #mel x you #mel x gn! reader #arcane mel #arcane x you #arcane x reader #arcane fanfic #arcane fic #my thingies :)

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angelltheninth · 1 year

Note

I loved your fic where Yelena wore a packer. Do you think you could do headcanons for Arcane women doing that too?

Bringing back memories Anon. To this day that's one of my favorite fics that I've written.

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika, Enforcer Grayson, Mel, Ambessa x Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, grinding, making out, straddling, handjob, blowjob, praise, teasing

A/N: I really miss these characters man, when are they coming back?!

One of the first things she does when she gets a packer is ask you if you want to have some fun with her. It will be different then what you usually do because its soft not hard but you'll figure it out for sure.

Even Jinx can't keep the gasping to a minimum when you take the cock and put your mouth around it. She can't thrust it like she can do with her strap but this is almost better, the way you look when you're down there, when you're kissing the tip, eyes closed and clearly getting excited from the idea of her wearing it all the time, of you being able to do this all the time.

"All the time, but that would be spoiling you too much sugar. I do want to spoil you but if I just give you everything you want, well simply put, where's the fun for me. I like you doing the chasing from time to time. If you think you can convince me then you better put that mouth to work."

God damn, the grinding she will put you though. Vi is already pretty horny with you and now that you have something to grind against when she pushes you against the wall, just downright irresistable.

At first you didn't even notice it cause of the baggy pants she wore but when you were hiding and sneaking around you felt the bulge pressing against your ass. Getting frisky in the open like this, while being chased no less, seems like her wilding ways had gotten to you. Honestly she couldn't be happier about that.

"Here? You want to just... oh. Well I haven't seen this side of you before sweet thing, I like it, I like it a lot. See you noticed my surprise. I didn't plan on wearing it today but I figured why not. You couldn't even tell until I started grinding against that pretty ass."

Caitlyn was a little hesitant to put it on at first. She wasn't sure if you would like it. It wasn't until you were on your knees, in front of the bed sucking her off that she fully embraced the idea.

How could anyone resist the look of you like that? Drooling all over her dick until she's a mess herself, trying to get a hold of her own breathing to stop herself from getting dizzy from the site of you. She knows those tongue movements well, the same ones you know drive her insane when you do them over her clit, its no different now, even though she can't feel them.

"You need to slow down my darling. Yes, if you must know, your mouth is that good. It is for me alright? Do you not believe me or something? I would think that the many orgasms I've had because of you are proof enou- wait, that. What you just did with your tongue, I need to see it again."

Once she gets her hands on one you're not only gonna be in her lap all the time but also horny all the time because it will be a constant reminder that she's gonna be putting your pussy to work later.

While you're in public, and you in her lap, no one can tell that she's wearing one, which is good, you want to be the only one know knows. You want to be able to straddle her lap and pull her into a kiss and feel that delicious pressure against your cunt, separated by clothing but still able to stain over her bulge as you slowly roll against her.

"Your seat is right here sweetcheeks. Got a surprise for you today too. Like it? Thought you might. Even in public I can see you drooling for me. No shame in that at all, you know I'd bend you over right here if you said yes. Already wet, maybe you want it after all. Ah I see, its just yours to see. Greedy little bitch."

Does not wear it while on duty, only when she's at home. Its because she doesn't trust you or herself not do anything at work while she has it. She let herself get distracted by you more then once.

But when she gets home she will comfortably wear the packer around you, bucking against your hand when you palm at it while you kiss her neck and cheek. Don't be shy, you can touch her all you want now, she's aching for it as much as you are. Do you have any idea how hard it is to be a model Enforcer when you're teasing her all the time?

"Stop teasing sweetie, I'm already on edge. You know very well why, don't play coy. I might be off duty but I can still handcuff and interrogate you. That is true, you can't really answer questions with your mouth full. We can take it one step at a time."

Now listen, being horny in the Council room is one thing, sucking Mel off under the table just because she told you she was packing that day is another.

This is a place of ideas and discussion, not sex and sucking. Or so she claims but she's pushing your head closer even as she scolds you, she's pressing her heels against your back, looking at you with near reverence because you seem to be worshiping her cock right now.

"I should really tell make sure you stay out of here in the future, darling. Don't get me wrong, I love you but when you're sucking me like this, in a place of work, I will have a hard time focusing on the meetings later. All I will think of is you between my legs."

Ambessa would have you on the couch, laying sideways, naked and giving her a blowjob while she rubs her hand down your body. When she wants you to go faster she will reach down and squeeze your ass.

She loves seeing you bobbing your head up and down on her cock, alternating between it and licking and kissing her many scars while your hand is on her cock. It doesn't take much for her to start thrusting up in your mouth, her hands now on the back of your head, keeping you still, slowly massaging you while she fucks your mouth.

"Do you want me to get my strap sweetheart? This is a pretty sight but I really want to fuck your throat. Are you still sore from last time? I can always kiss you better. Between your legs? Even better. Get up here. No, no, keep your mouth on me, I'll hold you up just fine."

#arcane x reader #jinx x reader #vi x reader #caitlyn x reader #sevika x reader #grayson x reader #mel medarda x reader #ambessa medarda x reader #arcane imagines #arcane headcanon #arcane smut #league of legends #arcane #league of legends imagine #league of legends headcanons #league of legends smut #league of legends x you #league of legends x reader

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ok-mongoose · 2 years

Text

Mel’s angel

Mel Medarda x reader

Notes: This is my first fic and I wrote most of it on my phone so sorry if it’s bad

A few days ago you got a letter in the mail adorned with gold, and signed ‘The House of Medarda’. It was a request for you to sing at the upcoming Progress Day fundraiser. Though it was a great opportunity, it was nerve wracking to you because you have never performed in front of people of such grand status, though they don't matter that much to you, you only really want to impress one person. But none the less you wouldn’t pass up the chance as it was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

At the moment you were trying to figure out what dress to wear and what songs to sing. Of course these were choices catered to the liking of one Mel Medarda, the only one you were trying to impress tonight, the day the fundraiser was to take place.

This would be your first time meeting her in person, sure you’ve seen her from afar but in person is different, you might have to talk to her. What would you say, what if you embarrass yourself, or say something stupid, then she won’t ever want to talk to you ever again, that would be terrible. It's most certainly not your most important problem but still a big one.

Ever since the first time you saw her, you've been infatuated with her. Who wouldn’t be, she's stunning, gorgeous, ethereal, one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen. It's an understatement to say you were obsessed. You’ve seen the way she worked, she's smart, calculating and every move she made was with precision and elegance.

You aspire to be like her, but more importantly you want to be with her. But you doubt that she’d ever be interested in someone like you. She’s confident, powerful, and can command a room with one look. Not to mention how her ebony skin glistened, how the gold on her skin and hair shined, and her eyes that made you think of a foggy forest, not that you've ever even seen a forest before, benefits of growing up in Zaun. No you were happy now and some stupid city isn’t going to ruin that, not again.

Trying to rid yourself of those thoughts you decided to try and choose a dress. You had two options; 1. A green to black ombre with black flowers climbing up from the black, 2. A black dress with daisies on it.

After a while of going back and forth between the two you finally decided on the green and black dress, the same green as Mel’s eyes, you loved those eyes, her gaze held so much wisdom and power it made you admire her even more. You wonder if those eyes were looking at someone with a different meaning behind them, one of love and adoration. You could only wish she would look at you with love and adoration but let’s be honest there’s a rare chance of that happening. Trying to get your mind off that thought you did your makeup. While trying to make it match the dress as you chose a few songs that show off your voice because that's why you were invited so you might as well show it off.

————————

You arrived at the fundraiser which took place in a grand room that had a large fire pit in the center and a giant open window on the other side of the room. You also noticed there were a lot of people from far away, a lot of rich people. Your palms got sweaty and your heart rate went up just walking through the crowd toward the makeshift stage. Winding and twisting through the people to get to an open space.

When you made it to the stage your palms were really sweaty and you could hear your heart beating in your chest. You’ve never liked crowds, they’ve always made you feel like you can’t breathe and your heart rate skyrockets. Being surrounded by people in a crowd makes you feel like throwing up.

You were calming down and that’s when you saw her. Mel Medarda, the woman you had been crushing on for a long while now. She was in her usual white dress which hugged her hips perfectly and it accentuated the gold plates of her shoulders and neck. Every time you saw her she took your breath away. Every step she took was with elegance and grace, she held her head high with confidence and maybe a little bit of ego.

It was five minutes until you had to go up and perform. You were nervous like you were before every show. But you knew once you got up there and started singing your fear would wash away like how the waves wash away any drawings on the sand.

A few minutes pass and it’s finally time to go up on stage. You stand there in front of a waiting audience. It's quiet except for a few background conversations, everyone waiting for you to begin singing.

You started with a soft and slow tune, one that mesmerized the audience. It slowly started getting faster and louder, the audience still captivated.

That's when you see her from across the room, her gorgeous green eyes locked on yours. You couldn’t tell what she was thinking behind those mesmerizing eyes. But that didn’t matter, seeing her there standing in a black dress with gold accents, it made a blush creep up onto your cheeks. She looked amazing in that dress.

You could barely focus on the song as she held your gaze. Her eyes were your favorite shade of green with a tint of gray. The song finally ended, it's a good thing or else it would have been very embarrassing to stop in the middle of a song and stare at the richest and most famous person in all of Piltover. People were starting to notice who you were staring at so you quickly averted your gaze and started the next song. In the corner of your eyes just for a second you saw a frown appear on her face.

————————

You finished all the songs and stepped off the makeshift stage after everybody had stopped applauding. You walked over to the balcony looking thing to watch the city from above and grabbed some champagne to sip while observing the crowd. Piltover looked so beautiful from above you wished you could have seen it as a kid. While admiring the city before you, you didn’t realize that Mel had come up behind you until she said something.

“It’s a beautiful view, no?” Her voice, soft and elegant like it always is.

“Oh uh yeah it is, I’ve never seen topside from so high.” You said with amazement. It’s true you’ve never seen Piltover from so high up but you didn’t deem it necessary to say why.

“I see it this way almost every day. It always calms me down, but I'm sure it’d be nice to see it from below too. I haven’t really gotten the chance to really explore. I know it might sound weird as I’ve lived here for quite awhile.” She said while looking into your eyes as if she was studying you.

“No it doesn’t sound weird, you’ve probably been too busy to go exploring, after all you are a councilor” you said while looking away, her gaze too intimidating to meet.

“Maybe, but I hope to see it someday” she said as she looked off towards Piltover. You took that chance to look at her and admire her beauty. You liked every part of her but her eyes especially, they were captivating. You could look into them for hours, not that Mel would ever let you. After a while of comfortable silence Mel speaks.

“Come walk with me” she said with that elegant voice that made you feel weak in the knees, wondering how she could say something with such command but still made it sound like an angel said it. You quickly followed her, not wanting to make her wait. You trail behind her for a little while before she says.

“You don't have to walk behind me, like a lost dog” what’d she mean by that. And why did you say what you did next?

“Why don’t you take me home with you then” you mumble, doubting she heard but when Mel raises one of her eyebrows, gorgeous green eyes twinkle with amusement, it made you question whether she heard what you said.

“You know i’ve heard a lot about you” you panicked for a minute hoping that she didn't hear anything bad about you.

“All good things I hope” you said visibly nervous under the intimidating gaze of the gorgeous and intelligent councilor before you. She gave you an adorable little giggle before she answered.

“Great things actually, they say you have the voice of an angel” you were wondering if Mel agreed with that

“And do you agree?” You said with a hint of nervousness, hoping she would say yes.

“I do” her voice laced with amusement. You could feel your cheeks heating up. You were glad she agreed. But you were also wondering why you craved her approval, but you did and she gladly gave you it.

You walked in silence for a little, but not an uncomfortable silence. One that lets you know you’ll get along with the person. A few minutes later she spoke.

“Can I ask you something?” She said with, you could have sworn, a little uncertainty.

“Of course!” You said in a cheery tone to make sure she doesn’t feel nervous about asking whatever she wanted to ask next. It seemed to have worked because you could see her shoulders relax. That’s when she asked a question that you never thought you’d hear.

“Would you like to accompany me tomorrow at noon for tea?” she said with a sweet smile. How could you resist that smile. You had nothing to do tomorrow and even if you did, you would cancel it to have tea with the most gorgeous person in the world, in your opinion. Plus you were so happy she wanted to spend more time with you, it was a dream come true. So with that you responded with a lot of enthusiasm, maybe too much.

“Of course I’d love to, thank you Councilor Medarda” you hope she wasn’t freaked out by your tone, as it was really happy like you’ve been wanting her to ask that for a while, which you sort of have.

“Please call me Mel, afterall we will be getting to know each other better soon” she said with a smile that you couldn’t tell if she meant something different behind it or if it was exactly as it seems.

“I can’t wait” you thought maybe you were too eager and she found it weird but what she said next made you think otherwise.

“I agree, I look forward to getting to know you, you seem like a trustworthy and honest person” you don’t really agree with the last part but you were really excited to have tea with the woman you’ve been crushing on for a while. So as a response you gave her a bright smile.

After a little talking you made it back to the party without realizing it. You were so entranced by her. Everything about her, her voice, her eyes, her smile, you couldn’t wait to get to know her because you knew you would fall even more for her after seeing just a glimpse of her personality during your talk. But right now it was late and you had to get home.

“I had a wonderful time talking to you, but I have to get home. Have a wonderful night” you said with disappointment. You didn’t want to leave but you had your pets to get back to.

“Have a good night, I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said with a bright smile. And with that you left and started your long walk back home.

————————

When you got home you quickly did what you had to do to get ready for bed because you couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come. As you laid in bed and thought about what happened that night, your talk with Mel. Wondering if she was actually excited for tomorrow or if she just said that out of courtesy. You thought probably courtesy because why would she be excited to talk to you. On the other hand she was the one who invited you for tea so that must mean she wants to talk to you.

You couldn’t stop overthinking about tomorrow and your talk with Mel, thinking you might have said something wrong even though the interaction went well and she didn’t seem mad. She seemed rather happy, at least that’s what you would guess from her body language. But that didn’t stop you from overthinking. Eventually you fell asleep, nervous but excited for tomorrow.

#arcane #mel medarda #mel x reader #mel x you #arcane mel

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devieuls · 6 months

Text

ˋ One more time.

Mike Schmidt x Ex gf reader (one shot)

Synopsis : After five months of mysterious disappearance, a young woman returns to the life of her ex-boyfriend. As they both try to piece together the pieces of their past, they will face buried secrets, unresolved questions and the possibility of a future different from what they had imagined. But also a more intimate rapprochement

Warning : SMUT MDNI. Semi-"vanilla"

Lenght : 2.5 K

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

You returned to "home" with a sense of trepidation in your soul. The evening had fallen, and the cold winter air penetrated your bones as you approached the entrance to what was once your refuge, but now it seemed to you only an empty and impersonal place. The air was icy, the dark lighting cast disturbing shadows on the walls. You haven’t been back in months, and it just seemed so neglected and gray. As you walked through the door, you could feel the emptiness filling the room. The couple photos with Mike were gone, some small gifts for the house were placed on the third floor, almost hidden. You felt like a stranger in that house where once love and warmth overflowed from every pore. You started to wonder if maybe it was a mistake to come back, show up after you’d been gone for so long, but Abby ended up calling you and asking you to come back. You had hoped to find Mike in the living room, maybe sitting in the chair watching something on TV, but he didn’t. Just pizza boxes and empty drinks. You found yourself with a strangely heavy heart of pain that you had come to know all too well over the years.

"Y/n!" Abby’s voice made you smile slightly and you turned to her to lower yourself to her height and hug her gently, God, if you missed that little girl. "How are you, honey?" Your voice was warm and affectionate as you squeezed her, she started twisting you with information, not even giving you time to ask questions or ask her where Mike was. "Do you hear me?" she asked after a few minutes and you looked at her shaking your head, passing a hand through your hair and laughing awkwardly. "Yes, I listen to you… it’s that-" before you could finish talking she look at you with the look of someone who had already understood too much for her young age. "He’s out. I’m talking, you know he got a new job? But it’s at night, and I have to hang out with that obnoxious Max. Remember? Here, she is. "A little laugh came out of your lips and then you hear footsteps behind you. You noticed a beautiful blonde in a police uniform when you turned around, beautiful blue eyes, a perfect face, and she looked like she came out of one of those model magazines. Then you noticed Mike and a knot formed in your throat. The first thing you thought was that she was his new girlfriend, otherwise why were they smiling until just before? Why that closeness? Why did he seem so relaxed in his presence? The saliva was now bitter and your breath became more irregular, getting up from the ground and taking laborsa that you had dropped to embrace Abby. Mike had a similar reaction, unable to look away from your figure. "Mike, she’s back! Y/n!" Abby began with a sunny voice, while that blonde smiled back at her as if she knew her and was happy for her. Did she think you were some kind of old babysitter? A new friend? Because it seemed like within those months your person had been cut off from that world that once belonged to you as much as they did. "Y/N.." He started, but you passed the gaze from him to the blonde and vice versa. "umh… I'm… Abby, I’ll visit you another day. Excuse me" you whispered, leaving your house key on a bedside table. You passed the beautiful blondie and Mike, being swept away by the icy winter wind that somehow seemed warmer now. Quick steps followed you from behind, and you could tell that it was Mike following you, surely looking for the right words to address you.

"Y/n… Y/n wait!" You pretended not to hear, but it was useless when he grabbed you by the wrist, stopping you on the spot and forcing you to look him right in the eye. Mike’s eyes were heavy, tired, which you also said from his dark eyes and the look on his face. "Let me go Mike…" you muttered quietly, tugging your arm. And that’s when you really realized you weren’t ready to face him again, not after the time you spent in total coldness in the final part of your relationship, not after you ran away from him for some bullshit. "We need to talk" "No. We don’t have to do anything… it was a mistake to come back. Tell Abby I’m sorry, I-I have to go." Mike pulled you even closer to him and looked you in the eye, bending your face to the side. "At least tell me why you left… come back here like nothing happened, look at me like I’m a piece of shit and walk away" "I didn’t look at you like you were a piece of shit." "You did. You looked at me, then Vanessa and-" "Vanessa, huh" you couldn’t help yourself and he looked at you confused. Moments later, he seemed to understand, and you waited for him to set you straight, not deserve it. He owed you nothing, he was allowed to move on with his life. After all he was young, she was beautiful and certainly would not have waited for his ex-girlfriend with anger and depression problems. "Listen. Let me go. I was wrong to come back, you certainly did not expect me to come back and that’s fine. Come back from… Vanessa" Her name looked so dirty coming out of your lips. "Y/n, Vanessa is a friend" "So you said of me" "She really is… Listen, I was out with her for work." "Is that what you say now? 'Work'" your voice was clearly ironic, and that hurt him. "God, Y/n. is really work… In the place where I work some people broke in e-" "You don’t have to explain anything to me, Mike." His look almost seemed sorry. You felt silly. It was you in the wrong, you had run away, you had ruined your relationship, you had been a bitch that night blaming your couple problems on his trauma with the brother. But now you were making that wound, the one they shouldn’t blame. "No. Holy shit Y/n you disappeared for 5 months and now you come back as nothing. You lecture me and make me feel like an asshole again. You don’t tell me where you’ve been, you haven’t even called me in months, let alone answered my calls. What’s your problem?" His gaze hung over yours, burning your irises until you felt cold chills down the back. He was right…

"I was gone." you whispered, looking down. "Gone? Gone where? All those months? Abby was asking me about you," he replied disappointed and incredulous. "I know… I’m sorry" "I was worried about you, I thought you were dead. I even called the police." "I’m sorry, I know" "Abby spent months crying for you. She started hating Max because she didn’t want her to babysit." "I know it" "Stop saying you know, don’t say it. you don’t. If you knew you would have come back. You would have contacted us, you would have called or written." "I’m sorry, okay? I needed a break." The exchange of jokes between you seemed to get colder and more detached, as if you two were accusing each other of who knows what, but never going straight to the point.

You don’t know exactly how they got you to stay with Abby while Mike was working. You knew you were in the kitchen cooking mac and cheese for dinner like the five months before never happened. Abby would tell you about Mike, and then Vanessa, her imaginary friends, and her school. You took care of her all night, and you deluded yourself that you were back where you were waiting for Mike at home and then you were all sleeping together. But you knew it was just an illusion. You read some stories to Abby and she quickly fell asleep. You allowed yourself a few minutes to wander around the house, noticing the slight change. You went into your room, no, not anymore. You walked into Mike’s room and you noticed the slight clutter, the piles of clothes, the messy desk, the practically half-empty closet, the bedding, and the smell of closed. You noticed the poster on the ceiling was gone. God knows how long you tried to get him to come back, and you recklessly blamed that Vanessa for that change. You went back to the living room and fell asleep in front of the television, too tired to visit other rooms or tidy up. At 6:45 in the morning, Mike came home, and he woke you up because of the door he accidentally slammed. You wrinkled your eyes and yawned before you got off the couch. You noticed the boy in front of you, he was visibly tired and had a bandage on his arm. Before you could even mention the wound, Vanessa came into the house and returned him a black gilet. You sighed and made to leave right after Vanessa. Mike stopped you and looked at you.

"Abby is still sleeping, I should go" whispered with kneaded voice from sleep "You can stay… please, stay. Abby would be happy to have you for breakfast" his voice was as sweet as it used to be. He was always sweet, he wasn’t the kind of guy with an aggressive or sour tone, he wasn’t you. "No, I should leave now… really." You turned to leave and your hands touched. You missed a breath, you turned slightly and bit your lip slightly. You sought within yourself the strength to leave, but its smell was now pressing against your nostrils. His free hand went to rest on the side of your neck, making you approach him. Your noses grazed, your breaths harmonized for the same speed and depth in which they took breath of air. You looked at her lips and wanted to try them again. "I have to go…Mike" you whispered, trying to put a brake on everything before you crashed into the same loop again. "Yes… you must go" he said quietly, not letting you go. You sighed and after a few seconds, your lips were within inches of each other, but you were still trying to resist desperately. You couldn’t, you didn’t have to kiss again, you didn’t have to go back to the cycle. Not after you put a stitch.

Mike now held your face with both hands, caressing your soft skin lightly and gently, longingly, just as he did long ago. Your eyes became more and more intense, with eyes drowning in each other. After a brief moment of hesitation, the resistance gave way and your faces slowly approached. Your lips brushed lightly at first, but soon the kiss turned into an overwhelming passion. His hands began to explore the contours of your body, as the clothes were removed with a growing desire. The kiss was consuming the lips of both of them, as the room warmed more and more as the clothes were taken off, your breaths that now seemed uneven because of the heat that had kidnapped both. Mike didn’t hesitate to take you by the thighs and get up to lean on the table, his lips went down your neck with speed and desire. His nimble hands had already left you half-naked, he took off your panties quickly, slipping two fingers into your already soaked intimacy. You closed your eyes and opened your mouth to leave a groan that he was about to choke with his free hand. "Abby will wake up soon, don’t let us hear" he mumbled, as he started pumping his fingers in and out of you. You whined silently, looking at the ceiling as you begged for restraint and that sweet little girl to stay and sleep in her warm crib. You didn’t notice right away when Mike came inside you with his hard erection, you were busy looking at the ceiling and holding back the desperate moans. Your lips met again as the pressures intensified and became increasingly bumpy, rough, almost animal. His fingers ended up digging into your hips, holding you to him as he took back what was his. He broke away from the kiss, not giving you time to realize the situation, starting to mark your body. You sighed heavily, your hips against him as much as you could. You bit your lip as you whimpered for more, and he fulfilled that little silent wish, making it deeper and a little slower, as if to make you feel every inch of him rubbing against your walls. You could feel the vein of his muscle pulsating inside you as the strokes became so damn satisfying, albeit exasperating. Your eyes rolled backwards, feeling closer and closer to orgasm. You were sure you were coming, your hands were tight around her bicep panting in a low voice, trembling slightly for pleasure. He grunted in a low voice, enjoying as much as you for that newfound intimacy, you could hear how he hit your weakest point as if he had never stopped cheating in those 5 months of absence, remembering where you liked and how you liked.

"Mike… Mike, is breakfast ready?" Abby’s sleepy voice was heard above the stairs. You cursed yourself for not praying more intensely for his sleep. Mike came out of you, putting his sore erection back into his sweatpants and black boxers. I recovered your pants and panties and passed them to you, hoping to block Abby before she got into the kitchen. You put your clothes on with an unheard of speed, slightly puffing for the missed orgasm. You felt discomfort between your legs, you knew you were close and your body made you weigh it now. Your swollen clitoris palpated between your legs. You rubbed his thighs, hoping to ease the pain, and you sat in the chair, pretending a few seconds before you weren’t getting fucked on the dining table. "Not yet… emh… now I’m going to make it, go brush your teeth" Mike replied to his sister, gently pushing her down the stairs, sending her to the bathroom to brush her teeth. He turned to you with a sorry expression. "Don’t worry" you calmed him down, as he couldn’t help but notice his erection in his pants, and feel slightly mouth-watering. " We’re in this together, right?" "Definitely," he replied, putting his hand through his hair, then going into the kitchen, trying to calm down.

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Notes:

Not exactly my thing, but something to start with. I didn’t want to start with a too heavy smut but I definitely will in the next one shot of the other characters.

-Mel

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janeyseymour · 4 days

Text

La Cosa Nostra- pt 11

cowritten with @schemmentis

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10.

Summary: Melissa's pissed with recent news, the Feds are back at it, and you go to a place and person to find some comfort.

WC: ~2.05k

At this news, Melissa quickly slips into the seat on the other side of Dom's table. “Are ya crazy? I told you they've already torn this place to shreds, and you want to bring the money in through here?” She hisses as she leans more into the middle of the table. “Listen, losin’ the salon is already bad enough. You know what it did to Y/N when you took her off it.”

“That didn't come from me, Mel. I just had to deliver the message. You know that.”

“I don't care who it came from. You knew, and you did it just the same. Now you have the coglioni to sit here and say we should run it through here. I already ain't gonna forget the slightin’ of my wife, youse know that- the lot of you. You wanna tell me I gotta run this shit through my restaurant? Then tell me. Don't act like this is some proposition, Dominic. Tell me what to do, and I'll handle it. ‘Cause you and I both know how this shit works, but I am tellin’ you,” Melissa points an index finger at the man across from her sternly. “Right here, right now, I am tellin’ you; this fucks up my restaurant and youse all are gonna have a much bigger problem than the fuckin’ Feds, capisce?”

Dominic's face remains neutral, though there is an amused glint to his eyes as his palm shifts along the head of his cane. He nods quickly and respectfully to Melissa. “We want things to go well even more than you do, kid.” He says softly.

Melissa leans back in chair, arms crossing over her chest. She raises an eyebrow, silently urging him to say what he needs to say.

“We'll work out the details on our end. You only have to make sure you're here when the money comes through. Simple as that.” Dom says. He sighs when Melissa still merely stares at him expectantly. “Sí, sí. We're telling you this is how it's gonna work from now on. Clear out a spot in the office in the back. Nobody else needs to know it's anythin’ different than a regular shipment comin’ once in a while. None of it happens if you ain't here. This is big, Lissa. They're trustin’ you.”

“Like they trusted my wife?” Melissa spits out as she pushes herself out of the chair. “Texts only. They call and wake up my girls while they’re sleepin’, I'll take one of my bats to their kneecaps.” She adds on her way past Dom in his seat to storm back toward the kitchen.

You raise a brow as you watch your wife storm into the back and Dominic starts to slowly make his way out. You grab one of the other servers milling about, silently asking them to keep an eye on your girls while you go check on the redhead.

When you get into the back, she’s slamming her fist into the linoleum counter where they prep the food. Her hand is already bruising, and you take her fist gently into your own.

“My love,” you whisper as you hold her hand in yours.

“Let me go,” she hisses.

You shake your head, refuting her request. “You’re hurting yourself. You know I can’t let you do that.”

“I don’t give a shit,” she grumbles as she starts to curl her other hand into a fist. You grab the other one before she can even think about causing damage to that hand.

“Melissa.”

“They’re usin’ the restaurant as their new front,” your wife tells you quietly. “Said that it’s what we have to do, and they trust me… that we’re in the clear because the feds saw how busy we are and that we bring the girls around here, so it has to be safe.”

“I’m not letting you do this,” you tell her. “And I’m not letting them put the girls in danger.”

“We don’t got an option, Y/N. I told Dom I would handle it,” Melissa sighs as she leans against you. “And I will. You just… take care of the girls. No matter what happens.”

“Melissa, don’t talk like that- like you’re gonna die.”

“I’m just being realistic. You did the same when they were using the salon,” your wife says softly. “We both knew that if something happened, I’d have to keep the girls safe. But now, it’s on me, and I know that you’d do the same if something were to happen. We don’t have a choice.”

“Fuck,” you whisper again. “Shit.”

“Get… get the girls out of here, and tell them that I’ll be home late tonight,” your wife runs a hand over her face. “I have to make it work here.”

“No,” you say softly. “I’ll… I’ll get someone to come pick them up so I can help you.”

“Y/N,” Melissa grits out. “Go. I can handle this.”

You give her a look, one that tells her she doesn’t have to do this- that you’ll handle it. You don’t want to have her be the one in danger.

But she just shakes her head and insists you get the girls out of here- just in case Dom did give the two of you up, and he’s setting you up for failure. The girls cannot watch their mother(s) go down.

You cradle her face in your hands, kissing her a few times. “No more punchin’ things, hey? Can't have you bustin’ up those pretty fingers more than you already do.” You whisper. “I'll take care of the girls. You do what you gotta do.” When she nods, just a little, you kiss her one more time before finally turning away.

You gather your girls with a thank you to the server watching them for you.

“Mam! We have to wait for Mommy!” Cat is insisting as you walk with both your girls out the front door.

“Auntie Val needs Mommy's help tonight, sweetheart. So, we're gonna go home and make sure everything is cleaned up and nice for her, okay?” You speak to your girls though you're glancing around the parking lot on the way to your car.

You take note of Dom's car pulling out but don't see any cars with sirens or lights careening into the lot afterward. You carefully buckle your girls into the backseat. When you're shutting the back door after making sure they're both safe, you look around again on the walk around to the drivers side. There's nothing different or out of the ordinary. No sign of agents or officers. Which means Dom has only done exactly as he said he did.

You slip into the driver's seat, throwing your seatbelt on. You swallow as you carefully pull out of the spot and towards home. Dom telling the truth is maybe worse than if he had flipped. They're really putting this on Melissa and Twelve Tables. Part of you despises it. The amount of risk it puts on your wife. You know it intimately. The other part, the part that grew up in all this and doesn't know anything else, that part is proud as hell. It isn't anything to turn your nose up at to be entrusted with the process of mafia money. It speaks volumes. Volumes that equally excite and terrify you.

Danik and Shaw are back at the precinct, contemplating everything that Dominic told them- that you and your wife had nothing to do with the murder of Bobby. He told them that even if you did have something against the man, you could never do anything- you rescue wasps because you don’t have the heart to kill them despite the fact that your wife is always screaming at you to kill the damned demons. They go over the fact that you bring your twins into your restaurant, you take the girls to church with you, you always are on time to get the girls to and from school. If you were a part of the mafia and mob that dealt with things pertaining to ordering hits and murder, you wouldn’t be such dutiful mothers.

But they also know that you never brought the girls into the salon- they’ve only ever seen the two girls with you at the restaurant. And that is a bit suspicious in their eyes. So, they plan to head back to the salon the following day.

When they get there, you aren’t there- which is unusual. You’re almost always there, and they know that. Instead, Tony is out on the floor with the other stylists. But you are nowhere to be seen; your car isn’t even in the lot. And it isn’t in the lot because you’re somewhere else.

You’re sitting in the sanctuary of your church. After dropping the girls off at school and leaving your wife to her restaurant turned mafia front, you go to the one place where you can find some sort of solitude- because even now your home reminds you of everything happening in your world.

There’s no service today, so you find yourself sitting in the back pew by yourself, looking up at the ceiling. You’re speaking silently to whatever God is out there to please spare your family from all of the heartache that you can only imagine is in your inevitable future. Finally, you bow your head, and you begin to weep silently.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when you feel someone slide into the pew next to you and wrap an arm around your shoulder. Your eyes pop open in surprise, and when you look next to you, Barbara is sitting there.

She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t ask why you’re here and not at the salon or at the restaurant. She doesn’t mention that she knows what the two of you do outside of your legal businesses. No- she sits in complete and utter silence as she holds you gently. And you can’t do anything about it. You can’t explain why you’re here in a puddle of your own tears, not without giving away what she already knows to be true. So you don’t say anything. You just continue to cry out your fears and worries over everything while clinging to the shawl that Barbara has draped over her shoulders. And when you pull away, you let out an ugly, choked out laugh.

“You probably think I’m crazy.”

“Crazy? For coming to the one safe little corner of the earth where you can feel anything and do anything and not be judged for it?” the woman asks you. She shakes her head silently. She takes your hand in her own, and together the two of you pray. You don’t realize that she is praying for the same thing that you are, but she is. The two of you silently pray that you’ll somehow get yourself out of this mess- that your family will be able to return to some sort of normalcy- or better yet turn a new leaf and start a new life where there is no mafia or mob, no illegal businesses that put everyone in harm’s way.

And when you lift your head, hers is still bowed for a few seconds before she lifts it with a quiet, “Thank you, God.” And then, as if nothing happened, she pats your hands gently with her own and goes on her way.

You take a few deep breaths once Barb is gone. Carefully trying to get yourself together. You wipe at your cheeks and eyes, focusing on the distant altar at the pulpit. You sit in the last pew, breathing deep and slow. Staring at the large depiction of Jesus on the cross behind the altar. Slowly, you feel the serenity you were hoping to. You don't know that praying will do anything, actually change anything, but it's at least felt like getting it off your chest. In a way that doesn't jeopardize your family or anyone else. You suddenly understand Barbara's devout faith. You can't say that will ever be you but you get it. You make the sign of the cross over your head and chest as you finally rise from the pew and slowly make your way out of the quiet church.

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